The numbers were a bit lower today, which was good to see. However, that didn’t mean that we were able to weed out all of the problems. There were a few quality performances.
Only eleven students in my first period, which was the smallest it’s been in forever. There was a lot of chatter, but it is much more manageable with 11 as opposed to 20.
I notice that the students have no clue what they are saying half the time. Their language in school is appalling. The Boy with the Tattooed Hands is easily the worst. He dropped the f-bomb almost immediately after sitting down. I warned him, which immediately led to complaints. “I didn’t curse, podna,” he said. About two minutes later, he let it slip again. I handed him his first check, which led to grumbling but he was still compliant, filling out and signing the small piece of paper.
I heard a few muffled “fuck”s and shook me head at the Boy with the Tattooed Hands. Once again, I only warned him, telling him that he needed to stop. He didn’t listen.
The other students were talking about who was going to graduate from the program and who would be stuck at NHS for another year. Somebody said that they were on the “hell no list”. The Boy with the Tattooed Hands added that he was on the “fuck no list”. He was absolutely correct, but he said that word about six times too many for one class period, so I gave him check number two.
He grew extremely angry, throwing it to the ground. I told him that he had the choice to write the check or leave the room and a referral would be written. He did write it, but then he pushed the check into my hand hard enough that it startled me a bit. He then said, “MAN, GET OUT OF MY FACE! FUCK!” He got out of his desk so quickly that it shook a bit, and I honestly thought he was going to hit me. Thankfully, he didn’t. He did say that he "felt like hitting somebody".
A minute later, the fire alarm went off. Shit. I had prepared a quiz to give to my class, and it appeared like that would no longer be happening. I followed my class out the door and into the gravelly lot. While I was standing outside, I began working on the Boy with the Tattooed Hands’ referral. The sergeant across the hall had advised me to be as descriptive as possible. They want to get him expelled.
We returned to class a moment later, and Tattooed Hands was once again sitting in his desk. I made the security woman take him out of there, knowing that it would only lead to disaster. I have written atleast six referrals on him. I am honestly stunned that he hasn’t been expelled yet.
The Instigator came back to class with a piece of paper taped over her mouth. She told me that she was worried about contracting the Swine flu. After prodding her for a couple of minutes, she finally did take off the paper. I saw her wearing it around later in the day.
Never got to the quiz in that class. Tomorrow.
Second period went extremely well today. Rosie came up to me before class today and announced that she was going to do all of her work for the rest of the year because she couldn’t get any more checks. A lot of the students are really trying to modify their behavior because they see the finish line and don’t want to be stuck here for another year. She still was a bit short with me, but she did do all of her work. So did The Rapist’s girlfriend (no chance of getting out) and Prudence (very slim chance of getting out). I might be the only person in the school that likes Prudence, but I do. She reminds me of my grandmother if grandma was black, older, and a lot dumber. Besides the “you can’t teach good” quip, I have never had an issue with her. She hasn’t been involved in any drama the last few days either, so that’s good. I don’t want her “big-titted self” to get in any fights.
Third period was a bit more exciting. The students announced that they had heard I was diagnosed with the Swine flu (courtesy of the Instigator). Many of the boys covered their mouths when I was nearby. Whisper made several mentions of how ill I appeared to be.
He also was talking about his new tattoo. Whisper told his fellow classmates that he plans on getting “PIMP” tattooed on his knuckles and he was also thinking about getting “some bitch’s name” tattooed on his chest, but he decided against that. I could have told him that I have friends who know that isn’t such a good idea, but I instead just told him that it was inappropriate.
The topic of conversation (which they really aren’t supposed to have in the first place if it isn’t math-related) changed from tattoos to Whisper’s watch. He carries around a cloth and is constantly trying to get it to shine as much as possible. He looked at me and said, “Mr. C-------, why ain’t you blingin’? If I was a teacher, I’d be even more blingin’. You make a lot more money than I do. I don’t even have a job. Well, I work on the street. I sell Oxycontin and Viagra on the street. So if you ever are in pain or have trouble getting’ your winkie up, come see me.” I couldn’t fight the smile, but I was able to force out another “that is not appropriate” comment.
He wouldn’t stop talking. Finally, after a few more minutes of this talk, I moved him. He grew angry, once again claiming that I was picking on him. I made him write his first check a minute later. When I asked him to take off the band he had around his head and to stop playing with an eraser that had pins in it, he started yelling at me.
“I don’t know why you always gotta be pickin’ on me. Everybody else in this school said it’s okay and then I come in here and cuz you don’t like me, you gonna try and make me take it off. I ain’t writin’ no check and I ain’t takin’ it off.”
He did write a check, with the encouragement of his classmates. I kicked him out briefly when he had his back turned to me and was making gestures at those behind him, provoking laughter. I am a bit disappointed I didn’t write a referral on him today. It would have been a good one.
I angered a dreadlocked boy after he had made a comment about how students should be able to write referrals for teachers. He said I would get one. I told him to shut his mouth.
He responded by telling me to shut my mouth.
I responded by giving him a check. There is very little that I can’t say to my students, and the disrespect grew old several months ago.
I kicked out Man Man. He told me I should be suspended and constantly complained about my teaching, so I gave him a check. He walked all the way to the front of the class with it, but set it in the desk right in front of me. I asked him to hand it to me, which he refused to do. That was the end of his day with me.
The students that used to be in second period don’t say a whole lot in that class. Terry Schiavo was sleeping for much of class. I asked him a question regarding what the initial position of an object was (on the overhead, it stated, “An object starts at 3 m”). He told me that the answer was “D”. Probably not paying attention. Maceface was also back today. I know that the sergeants and administration want him expelled for the threats he made to a sergeant. Unfortunately, there isn’t a lot of documentation on problems he has caused. In class today, he asked if he could take his quiz home. I said no. Besides that, he never said a word.
I was excited to see that Teletubby was in 4th period today. I thought he was absent. He made his presence known with a bright green long-sleeved shirt, a green sweater vest, forest green pants, and bright green socks that went all the way up to his knees. I told him that he looked like a giant lizard. He had both his legs propped up on another chair, and when I asked him to remove them, he sat like a log. When I scolded him, he said, “They is comin ‘down slowly, but surely” in the most flamboyant, feminine manner that I have ever heard another human being speak.
Teletubby spent the first five minutes of class applying Carmex lip balm to his lips. When I told him to stop, he just said, “My lips get dry sometimes, Mr. C-------. I need ta do it.” I told him that he probably had applied enough, and he finally agreed to put it away.
Later in class, he complained, “My eyes is hurtin’. I think I got an onion or some Carmex in my eye.” I let him waddle to the bathroom to dampen some paper towel. I have gotten to the point with him where it is really difficult to look at him without laughing.
After reviewing a few problems, I handed out the quiz. The new kid with the cast was asleep, so I slid his paper under his face. Another newer student was also asleep, so I put his quiz on top of his head. It stayed there for a solid minute or two, and I snapped a picture. He then woke up, and set it on his desk. When I picked it up 15-20 minutes later, the only mark on the paper was a very large drool spot.
Fifth period was a little bit easier today because Jamaican Mon and Big Kid in Camo were both absent. Before entering the room Skinny Kid (formerly) in Camo got in trouble for saggy pants. The sergeant across the hall sent him outside to run. He also told him that he wanted him back in the uniform because he didn’t know how to dress himself. He lasted two days.
I am really stunned how much work Linda Blair has been doing lately. Today, she was determined to do well on her quiz. She didn’t quite finish, but what from I’ve seen on her paper, she has gotten every question correct. I would have never imagined she’d have this determination a month ago. At the end of the period, she didn’t even ask for candy.
Onepac was probably the biggest troublemaker today. He didn’t do anything terrible, but he wouldn’t shut his mouth. After I threw a dead dry erase marker in the trash can from a decent distance, he tried to emulate me, missing badly. He said, “I thought I could shoot like you.” I responded, “Nope. I’m a better shooter and I’m a better rapper.” He chuckled and then challenged me to a battle. I accepted, but told him that we needed to wait until the last day of class because if we battled today, he would be so humiliated that he wouldn’t ever want to show his face at NHS again. The kids got a kick out of that.
I bribed my homeroom with candy today. Knowing that the forgiveness curriculum wouldn’t work by itself, I sat in front of the class with a package of 8 fun sized Snickers bars. I redistributed the “If” poems from yesterday. Suddenly, students felt inspired to participate. I even had volunteers to read. The Instigator went first. It was painful to listen to her struggle through the words. For a group of kids that prides themselves on “flow”, they sure don’t have much. After she finished the first stanza, the other students remarked how she couldn’t read. She hit Lady Cheaterly in the back and started chasing after Dinosaur. I gave her a check.
The poem was finished and then students started giving their interpretations of what different lines meant. The Great Black Hope had a pretty decent understanding, but the others (esp. Jam Master Jay) simply made statements such as “It says to be the best you can be and treat others the way you want to be treated”. Oh well. It held their attention for fifteen minutes. I ended up handing out seven candy bars. The Instigator was not pleased. After the horn sounded for the kids to go outside, she decided to resume her chase of Dinosaur. I yelled at them and had a brief word with them when the room was empty.
I tried to explain how they couldn’t punch and slap and touch one another, even if it was playing. I told them that if a sergeant had seen that, they’d be suspended. The Instigator assured us that she wasn’t playin’ and she’d get Dinosaur when they went outside. It was obvious she was joking, but she did proceed to slap her across the face only seconds later. She attempted to sneak out of the room, but I went right to Sergeant Grinch (her physical exercise teacher) and told him that I’d be writing a referral on her).
While I was out of my room, somebody stole the last Snickers bar. I was out of there for all of 45 seconds.
After finishing the referral, I went out to hand Sergeant Grinch my completed referral on The Instigator. I noticed some students were playing volleyball. Others were walking. Teletubby and Slim were busy walking together and chatting. I wonder if they are dating yet. I was a bit disheartened to see Suit Man walking with them. With all the lady problems he has been telling me about lately, I suppose it is possible that he is considering switching teams. I guess it only means more CAT for me. YEAHHHH MAN!
Walking in, I saw a small white boy had been maced. His face was extremely red and tears were streaming down his face as the large, male security person from the middle school was basically carrying him to the bathroom. I don’t ever want to get maced.
So that was Wednesday. I was a bit tired after last night, but it really wasn’t a bad day. I hope that the numbers continue to dwindle. It definitely did make things a bit easier. I expect that the Boy with the Tattooed Hands and the Instigator will both be suspended tomorrow, so I won’t have to deal with them. Maybe tomorrow, we can “solve” a few more problems.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Familiar Faces in Unfamiliar Places
Last night, I drove down to New Orleans to meet up with a friend from high school (technically 8th grade). It was dumb luck that found him in the Big Easy. We (the two of us and his lady friend) went to a really good seafood restaurant called Dean’s that was just off of Bourbon Street. We split an order of boiled crawfish and then I had a seafood platter consisting of catfish, shrimp, and oysters. Not too shabby.
My friend’s girlfriend paid for dinner. It was a nice surprise. Ho Man would approve of my buudy’s “Ho Mama”.
After dinner, we did a lap around Bourbon Street. It is certainly different during the week, but still a really good time. I went into a few bars that I had never experienced before.
The most interesting place we went was “World Famous Love Acts”. I had been outside the door before. It is adorned with photographs of things I have never and will never do to any woman. There was a man outside trying to convince us to go in. He told us that we could bring our daiquiris inside and there was no cover charge. I read on the door that there was a one drink minimum. Forgot to tell us that part. He told us that we wouldn’t ever see a show like it again and it’d be worth it. It piqued an interest.
My friend and I went back and forth between going in. We decided to see what it was all about, and he quickly ran next door to tell his girlfriend that we were going to check it out.
Walked in. Seemed an awful lot like a strip club. We sat at a table about 15 feet from the stage. Two girls wearing next to nothing came up to us. One sat by my friend and one asked me for my name.
“Melvin.”
I should have known instantly that we were destined to be lovers forever when she told me that she had an uncle named Melvin. Or I should have known that she was just as bad a liar as I was. I sat down and she started asking about where I was from. I really had no interest in talking to her, but I thought it would make a good story. She interrupted my mumbling.
“Is it okay if I sit on your lap?”
I thought it was kind of strange, but I said, “Yeah, whatever.” So she did. I didn’t get that great of a look at her, but she didn’t appear to be my type. Too tall. Too thin. Too much of a stripper.
A minute later, the bartender came over and asked what we wanted to drink. I figured that a bottle of Miller Lite was about as safe as I could get, so I ordered one. My friend followed suit. My new Ho Mama asked if I minded if she got a drink. I replied, “Go ahead.”
She turned to the bartender and said, “He wants to buy me a drink, too.”
Now, I am not claiming that I am the smartest man in the world, but I do know a bit about “the game”. Strippers try to get as much money out of the customers as they can. The customers, usually pathetic, lonely men, will buy drink after drink, expecting to get repaid later in the night. This “woman” didn’t realize that I wasn’t looking for that kind of payment.
I stopped the bartender, saying, “Nooooooooooooooooooo…because I am cheap and strapped for cash.”
I have always been a hopeless romantic.
She quickly got off of my lap. My friend turned to me and said, “Yeah….let’s get out of here.” My Ho Mama then turned to me and, in a really snotty tone, said, “Your daiquiri is spilling all over your shirt.” Hole in the bottom. Oops.
My friend later told me that he asked “his girl” when the show was starting. The stripper said, “There is no show. This is the show.” I want my $6.75 back. False advertising.
We also went to a karaoke bar where I heard singers worse than me and another bar where I watched a 495-pound blues singer. He sat in a very sturdy stool and his entire body trembled with every note. He was actually really good.
I started heading home around 10:20. As my friend said, “It’s always good to see familiar faces in unfamiliar places.” I certainly no longer have issues coming up with topics for discussion.
Free dinner. Bourbon Street. A classy, scantily-clad woman on my lap. Hurricane daiquiris. Catching up with an old friend.
Not too shabby for a Tuesday night.
My friend’s girlfriend paid for dinner. It was a nice surprise. Ho Man would approve of my buudy’s “Ho Mama”.
After dinner, we did a lap around Bourbon Street. It is certainly different during the week, but still a really good time. I went into a few bars that I had never experienced before.
The most interesting place we went was “World Famous Love Acts”. I had been outside the door before. It is adorned with photographs of things I have never and will never do to any woman. There was a man outside trying to convince us to go in. He told us that we could bring our daiquiris inside and there was no cover charge. I read on the door that there was a one drink minimum. Forgot to tell us that part. He told us that we wouldn’t ever see a show like it again and it’d be worth it. It piqued an interest.
My friend and I went back and forth between going in. We decided to see what it was all about, and he quickly ran next door to tell his girlfriend that we were going to check it out.
Walked in. Seemed an awful lot like a strip club. We sat at a table about 15 feet from the stage. Two girls wearing next to nothing came up to us. One sat by my friend and one asked me for my name.
“Melvin.”
I should have known instantly that we were destined to be lovers forever when she told me that she had an uncle named Melvin. Or I should have known that she was just as bad a liar as I was. I sat down and she started asking about where I was from. I really had no interest in talking to her, but I thought it would make a good story. She interrupted my mumbling.
“Is it okay if I sit on your lap?”
I thought it was kind of strange, but I said, “Yeah, whatever.” So she did. I didn’t get that great of a look at her, but she didn’t appear to be my type. Too tall. Too thin. Too much of a stripper.
A minute later, the bartender came over and asked what we wanted to drink. I figured that a bottle of Miller Lite was about as safe as I could get, so I ordered one. My friend followed suit. My new Ho Mama asked if I minded if she got a drink. I replied, “Go ahead.”
She turned to the bartender and said, “He wants to buy me a drink, too.”
Now, I am not claiming that I am the smartest man in the world, but I do know a bit about “the game”. Strippers try to get as much money out of the customers as they can. The customers, usually pathetic, lonely men, will buy drink after drink, expecting to get repaid later in the night. This “woman” didn’t realize that I wasn’t looking for that kind of payment.
I stopped the bartender, saying, “Nooooooooooooooooooo…because I am cheap and strapped for cash.”
I have always been a hopeless romantic.
She quickly got off of my lap. My friend turned to me and said, “Yeah….let’s get out of here.” My Ho Mama then turned to me and, in a really snotty tone, said, “Your daiquiri is spilling all over your shirt.” Hole in the bottom. Oops.
My friend later told me that he asked “his girl” when the show was starting. The stripper said, “There is no show. This is the show.” I want my $6.75 back. False advertising.
We also went to a karaoke bar where I heard singers worse than me and another bar where I watched a 495-pound blues singer. He sat in a very sturdy stool and his entire body trembled with every note. He was actually really good.
I started heading home around 10:20. As my friend said, “It’s always good to see familiar faces in unfamiliar places.” I certainly no longer have issues coming up with topics for discussion.
Free dinner. Bourbon Street. A classy, scantily-clad woman on my lap. Hurricane daiquiris. Catching up with an old friend.
Not too shabby for a Tuesday night.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
First Day of Class Redux
Today was a bit like the first day of school all over again.
Due to the rapid growth of the high school classes, it was decided that the classes should be restructured to even out the numbers. Since I have been here, I had three 8th grade classes, a class of predominantly 10th and 11th with a few 9th graders, and a class of all 9th graders. Now, my schedule consists of only two 8th grade classes (my 2nd hour has been split up and added to my 3rd and 5th period classes), one class of all 10th and 11th graders, and two classes of 9th graders. There are between 16 and 19 students on every roster, which means hopefully between 10 -14 will show up every day. It should be much more manageable.
I had my normal homeroom class come to me at the beginning of the day. They had absolutely no clue what was going on. Only a few of them had to change their schedules, but it did feel pretty good to break the news to them.
Some really got pissed off.
Teletubby was really loud and obnoxious through much of the homeroom time. After taking attendance, I decided to give him his new schedule first. “What’s this?” he asked. “No, I don’t want this. Take it back.”
He was devastated to learn that he wouldn’t have his little ladies to gossip with anymore. He even said, “Mr. C------- must have proposed this.” I was surprised that he would use such a big word, especially because in most states, he’ll never have the opportunity to do it.
I did give him a check during that brief ten minute period, which he wasn’t going to fill out, because he was “no longer in my class”. I would be seeing him later in the day.
The end of that brief period was met with a couple of tearful goodbyes. Jam Master Jay was whining, saying how much he was going to miss his girlfriend, Chocolate Crotch Crammer. I had absolutely no idea they were together. The more well-known couple, the Rapist and his lady friend, wanted to share a hug before the girl went on her way. I wouldn’t let them, saying that there was no physical contact at the school.
My first period did go a bit better without Teletubby in there. There was still very little work being done and lots of talking, but I was able to sit back a bit and not get overly stressed about it. I only handed out a couple of checks: one to Jam Master Jay for refusing to stop talking, and one to The Rapist after he said, “She is gonna go suck you off” when Hand Cramps asked me to talk to her in the hall. She wanted to ask what her behavior level is. I had no clue, but it can’t be good. Every check that they write causes a loss in money, which could mean dropping a behavior level. I know she has been suspended a few times and written a lot of checks in my room.
Second period was a mix of students that are normally in my first period with those that are normally in my fourth period. Iron Mike was separated from her beloved Third Bun in the Oven, but she still had Prudence to pick on. Surprisingly, those two went without incident. I had a lot of kids that seemed disinterested and too much talking ensued, but it does appear that the main goal is survival at this point. Prudence worked hard and I had a few other students who asked questions, but otherwise, I spent much of the period sitting back and let them “work”.
Third period was the normal group with the addition of Two Test. You can tell that she is used to doing her work, whereas most of third period doesn’t do anything. Whisper was in FLC today, so I didn’t have the pleasure of teaching him anything today. Worm with Braids was back after a long hiatus. He slept for half the class and talked for the other half.
The big dopey kid with glasses (I think I called him “Dumbo”, but I can’t remember) was turned around and not doing his work. I asked if he did his bell ringer, and he said, “Yeah”, handing me his paper from yesterday. I told him that he needed to do his work for today too and even pointed at the board. Five minutes later when I went to pick it up, he handed me the exact same sheet of paper. I ripped it up right in front of his face. He didn’t seem too happy.
Dumbo responded by crumpling the paper and then he threw it in my direction. I handed him a check, which put the class in an uproar. What I did was apparently “disrespectful”. He eventually did write the check, but he certainly didn’t seem happy with me for the remainder of the class. He tried to come up with some biting insults, but he was too dumb to even warrant a response from me.
Strahan was given two checks in class today. He had been talking the entire period and was asked to move. He continued talking and dropped the f-bomb. I gave him a check. He argued for atleast 5-10 minutes that he actually didn’t say the word, instead only mouthing it. “Man, I didn’t say anything. I said ‘uck’.” I ended up giving him a second check after he kept repeating it, which made him even angrier. I guess that my “whipped cream self” (his words, not mine) is like that sometimes.
One of the only enjoyable aspects of the new classes (besides cutting down numbers in two of them) is seeing how kids interact with one another. I couldn’t stop chuckling during my fourth period. Teletubby was the only student from my former first period in that class. He was pouting for the first half of the class, hunched over his desk, head in hand. “My head hurt,” he cried. For much of the beginning of the period, I thought that I had seen his last days as a troublemaker. I even got him to complete his bell ringer correctly. It probably helped that I offered two small candy bars to anybody that could solve the problem. He immediately straightened up and began doing his work.
Of course, as class went on, he began talking more. He completed his worksheet quickly and started up several small conversations, but he doesn’t have the pull as he did in the other class.
Suit Man was noisy today, earning a check. I was too lazy to even get out of my desk to give it to him, so I called him over.
Class was winding down and I was going from desk to desk to pick up work. I noticed that Teletubby had Rosie’s (now in 2nd period) worksheet on his desk. I handed him a check for cheating. “Oh, Mr. C-------, (Suit Man) put it there. I didn’t cheat. I didn’t. You wrong for dat, Mr. C------, you wrong for dat.” I made an agreement with him. I gave him a fresh worksheet and told him that if he could correctly complete the first problem, I would take the check back.
I didn’t take the check back.
Fifth period is going to be a handful. Added in with the cast of characters is Linda Blair and Mouth. That class can’t handle girls. Big Kid in Camo and Linda Blair were going at it, while Onepac and Mouth were arguing.
I offered up candy for anybody in that class that could solve the bell ringer. TB and Mouth both did the work, so they were rewarded. It caused a small uproar. Skinny Kid told me that the next time something was taken from my class, it would be him. I told him how stupid it was to say such a thing. He took great offense to that.
The uproar would only get louder a few minutes later.
Jamaican Mon, who is one of the dumbest human beings I have ever met, was complaining about how I got him suspended and how I favor other students over him. He continued to try to pick a fight with me, so I moved him and eventually gave him a check.
A moment later, somebody was talking to TB about Ho Man (wherever he may be) and how the larger boy once threatened to fight TB. The response was, “Fuck him.” I gave TB a warning (standard procedure) for cursing, and then Jamaican Mon flipped out. He concluded that I didn’t give him a check because he was white (actually he is mixed race) and because I am a racist.
Jamaican Mon, Onepac, both Camo Kids (Skinny Kid wore a nice sweater today) and Smiley all received checks during class. Before the horn sounded, Linda Blair went off on me for not giving them chocolate again. It took me a couple of minutes to get all of those clowns out of my room. I am dreading having that class again tomorrow.
For homeroom today, I passed out the poem, “If”, by Rudyard Kipling. I think I may have had two students who actually read it in the five minutes I allotted. The Boy with the Tattooed Hands asked if I wrote it, to which I responded, “I wish.” “Why? That ain’t a good thing,” he said. Diff’rent strokes for diff’rent folks, I suppose. I do not see anybody from my room getting much out of this. I am trying to pick out things that I find interesting and profound, but I am not good at bridging the class gap, and I know that my students don’t see things the way that I do.
Homeroom was winding down, and Slim (flamboyantly gay) was chatting with Hand Cramps. Out of the blue, she reached over to slap him, then got out of her desk, picked up a chair, and hit him in the arm with it. I told her to get out, and she responded, “I don’t care.” Not sure where that came from. I never know where any of it comes from.
A minute later, the day ended. During my prep time, Iron Mike came in for some extra assistance. I don’t mind working with the kids one-on-one. I do believe that if the class sizes were smaller, I could be an effective teacher. Unfortunately, I’ll never get that opportunity here.
I don’t know how I feel about the new classes, although it will be a pain in the neck to reorganize all my folders and such. I think that the 9th, 10th, and 11th grade classes are easier, but the new scheduling did make my 8th grade classes a lot more challenging. There are cliques at this school, and I am afraid that they may have just messed with them. It’ll be interesting to see how the year winds down. Short quiz for my students tomorrow. Expectations are low, so I guess I won't let myself be disappointed.
Due to the rapid growth of the high school classes, it was decided that the classes should be restructured to even out the numbers. Since I have been here, I had three 8th grade classes, a class of predominantly 10th and 11th with a few 9th graders, and a class of all 9th graders. Now, my schedule consists of only two 8th grade classes (my 2nd hour has been split up and added to my 3rd and 5th period classes), one class of all 10th and 11th graders, and two classes of 9th graders. There are between 16 and 19 students on every roster, which means hopefully between 10 -14 will show up every day. It should be much more manageable.
I had my normal homeroom class come to me at the beginning of the day. They had absolutely no clue what was going on. Only a few of them had to change their schedules, but it did feel pretty good to break the news to them.
Some really got pissed off.
Teletubby was really loud and obnoxious through much of the homeroom time. After taking attendance, I decided to give him his new schedule first. “What’s this?” he asked. “No, I don’t want this. Take it back.”
He was devastated to learn that he wouldn’t have his little ladies to gossip with anymore. He even said, “Mr. C------- must have proposed this.” I was surprised that he would use such a big word, especially because in most states, he’ll never have the opportunity to do it.
I did give him a check during that brief ten minute period, which he wasn’t going to fill out, because he was “no longer in my class”. I would be seeing him later in the day.
The end of that brief period was met with a couple of tearful goodbyes. Jam Master Jay was whining, saying how much he was going to miss his girlfriend, Chocolate Crotch Crammer. I had absolutely no idea they were together. The more well-known couple, the Rapist and his lady friend, wanted to share a hug before the girl went on her way. I wouldn’t let them, saying that there was no physical contact at the school.
My first period did go a bit better without Teletubby in there. There was still very little work being done and lots of talking, but I was able to sit back a bit and not get overly stressed about it. I only handed out a couple of checks: one to Jam Master Jay for refusing to stop talking, and one to The Rapist after he said, “She is gonna go suck you off” when Hand Cramps asked me to talk to her in the hall. She wanted to ask what her behavior level is. I had no clue, but it can’t be good. Every check that they write causes a loss in money, which could mean dropping a behavior level. I know she has been suspended a few times and written a lot of checks in my room.
Second period was a mix of students that are normally in my first period with those that are normally in my fourth period. Iron Mike was separated from her beloved Third Bun in the Oven, but she still had Prudence to pick on. Surprisingly, those two went without incident. I had a lot of kids that seemed disinterested and too much talking ensued, but it does appear that the main goal is survival at this point. Prudence worked hard and I had a few other students who asked questions, but otherwise, I spent much of the period sitting back and let them “work”.
Third period was the normal group with the addition of Two Test. You can tell that she is used to doing her work, whereas most of third period doesn’t do anything. Whisper was in FLC today, so I didn’t have the pleasure of teaching him anything today. Worm with Braids was back after a long hiatus. He slept for half the class and talked for the other half.
The big dopey kid with glasses (I think I called him “Dumbo”, but I can’t remember) was turned around and not doing his work. I asked if he did his bell ringer, and he said, “Yeah”, handing me his paper from yesterday. I told him that he needed to do his work for today too and even pointed at the board. Five minutes later when I went to pick it up, he handed me the exact same sheet of paper. I ripped it up right in front of his face. He didn’t seem too happy.
Dumbo responded by crumpling the paper and then he threw it in my direction. I handed him a check, which put the class in an uproar. What I did was apparently “disrespectful”. He eventually did write the check, but he certainly didn’t seem happy with me for the remainder of the class. He tried to come up with some biting insults, but he was too dumb to even warrant a response from me.
Strahan was given two checks in class today. He had been talking the entire period and was asked to move. He continued talking and dropped the f-bomb. I gave him a check. He argued for atleast 5-10 minutes that he actually didn’t say the word, instead only mouthing it. “Man, I didn’t say anything. I said ‘uck’.” I ended up giving him a second check after he kept repeating it, which made him even angrier. I guess that my “whipped cream self” (his words, not mine) is like that sometimes.
One of the only enjoyable aspects of the new classes (besides cutting down numbers in two of them) is seeing how kids interact with one another. I couldn’t stop chuckling during my fourth period. Teletubby was the only student from my former first period in that class. He was pouting for the first half of the class, hunched over his desk, head in hand. “My head hurt,” he cried. For much of the beginning of the period, I thought that I had seen his last days as a troublemaker. I even got him to complete his bell ringer correctly. It probably helped that I offered two small candy bars to anybody that could solve the problem. He immediately straightened up and began doing his work.
Of course, as class went on, he began talking more. He completed his worksheet quickly and started up several small conversations, but he doesn’t have the pull as he did in the other class.
Suit Man was noisy today, earning a check. I was too lazy to even get out of my desk to give it to him, so I called him over.
Class was winding down and I was going from desk to desk to pick up work. I noticed that Teletubby had Rosie’s (now in 2nd period) worksheet on his desk. I handed him a check for cheating. “Oh, Mr. C-------, (Suit Man) put it there. I didn’t cheat. I didn’t. You wrong for dat, Mr. C------, you wrong for dat.” I made an agreement with him. I gave him a fresh worksheet and told him that if he could correctly complete the first problem, I would take the check back.
I didn’t take the check back.
Fifth period is going to be a handful. Added in with the cast of characters is Linda Blair and Mouth. That class can’t handle girls. Big Kid in Camo and Linda Blair were going at it, while Onepac and Mouth were arguing.
I offered up candy for anybody in that class that could solve the bell ringer. TB and Mouth both did the work, so they were rewarded. It caused a small uproar. Skinny Kid told me that the next time something was taken from my class, it would be him. I told him how stupid it was to say such a thing. He took great offense to that.
The uproar would only get louder a few minutes later.
Jamaican Mon, who is one of the dumbest human beings I have ever met, was complaining about how I got him suspended and how I favor other students over him. He continued to try to pick a fight with me, so I moved him and eventually gave him a check.
A moment later, somebody was talking to TB about Ho Man (wherever he may be) and how the larger boy once threatened to fight TB. The response was, “Fuck him.” I gave TB a warning (standard procedure) for cursing, and then Jamaican Mon flipped out. He concluded that I didn’t give him a check because he was white (actually he is mixed race) and because I am a racist.
Jamaican Mon, Onepac, both Camo Kids (Skinny Kid wore a nice sweater today) and Smiley all received checks during class. Before the horn sounded, Linda Blair went off on me for not giving them chocolate again. It took me a couple of minutes to get all of those clowns out of my room. I am dreading having that class again tomorrow.
For homeroom today, I passed out the poem, “If”, by Rudyard Kipling. I think I may have had two students who actually read it in the five minutes I allotted. The Boy with the Tattooed Hands asked if I wrote it, to which I responded, “I wish.” “Why? That ain’t a good thing,” he said. Diff’rent strokes for diff’rent folks, I suppose. I do not see anybody from my room getting much out of this. I am trying to pick out things that I find interesting and profound, but I am not good at bridging the class gap, and I know that my students don’t see things the way that I do.
Homeroom was winding down, and Slim (flamboyantly gay) was chatting with Hand Cramps. Out of the blue, she reached over to slap him, then got out of her desk, picked up a chair, and hit him in the arm with it. I told her to get out, and she responded, “I don’t care.” Not sure where that came from. I never know where any of it comes from.
A minute later, the day ended. During my prep time, Iron Mike came in for some extra assistance. I don’t mind working with the kids one-on-one. I do believe that if the class sizes were smaller, I could be an effective teacher. Unfortunately, I’ll never get that opportunity here.
I don’t know how I feel about the new classes, although it will be a pain in the neck to reorganize all my folders and such. I think that the 9th, 10th, and 11th grade classes are easier, but the new scheduling did make my 8th grade classes a lot more challenging. There are cliques at this school, and I am afraid that they may have just messed with them. It’ll be interesting to see how the year winds down. Short quiz for my students tomorrow. Expectations are low, so I guess I won't let myself be disappointed.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Who is ignorance and tasty mittens
I can tell that my students are really starting to coast, and unfortunately, I am getting ready to ease on down the road as well.
In the first minutes of my initial class of the day, I needed to run to the office to correct my attendance. While there, I was greeting with a handshake and a big smile. I’m not sure what he was doing there, but Step Six greeted me like he was a straight A student and I was his favorite teacher. Believe it or not, it was actually nice to see him. It was even nicer because I knew he wouldn’t be in my class.
First period saw the return of some favorites: Rosie, Hand Cramps, Chocolate Crotch Crammer, and the Boy with the Tattooed Hands. Both Rosie and Hand Cramps (besides earning a check for putting her hands around Jam Master Jay’s neck) remained silent, but Chocolate Crotch Crammer and Tattooed Hands made their presence(s) felt.
Every time I redirected CCC, she said how she wasn’t going to do anything. “You just gonna get me suspended again,” she would said, “Shoot!”
The Boy with the Tattooed Hands didn’t have any run-ins with me, but he did drop an f-bomb on another student and kicked a chair towards her. I gave him a check, which he actually wrote in relative silence. I was a bit surprised.
Once again, I taught to the one kid that knew what I was talking about (Big White Kid), while the rest of the class carried on dozens of pointless and aimless conversations. At the head of the issue was Teletubby…
He came in late, and he immediately began talking about the boy who he fought over the weekend. I do think it would be amusing to watch this kid fight. I would imagine slapping and hair grabbing would be commonplace. Anyways, he continued to talk and gossip loudly. He received two checks from me, because even as I was telling him not to talk, he continued conversing with those around him.
At the end of the class, I simply asked Teletubby what he learned during class. “Well...” he started, “I learned who is fake, which of my friends is fake, and who is ignorance.” I smiled, thinking of the irony behind the statement that he made. One of Teletubby’s favorite sayings is “Ignorance is bliss”. He says it at the most random times. Ignorance is bliss - Maybe that is why he always seems so happy.
Second period consisted of Linda Blair, Mouth, Two Test, and the newer boy. They have been fairly well-behaved lately, albeit a bit desperate for candy. Two Test immediately asked if I had any of “those little peppermints” upon entering the room. She told me that she didn’t feel very well and needed something in her mouth. I told her to do her work and that maybe I could help her out later. She asked again a minute later:
“Mr. C-------, can I play have a mitten?”
I was a bit baffled. I believe at that point, the air conditioning was off, so I couldn’t figure out how she could be cold. A minute later, she asked again. When I asked her to specify, she said, “You know, one of those little mittens.” Finally, Mouth translated for me – mitten = mint.
I guess it shouldn’t surprise me coming from a girl who once took the same test twice without noticing, but I did get a kick out of it. Every time any of those girls got out of line at all, I would just say, “Who wants a mitten?” and they would giggle and continue working.
I am also amused at how they approach their bell ringers. I’m not going to lie – the main reason that I do the bell ringers is to bide time to take attendance and get everything ready for the rest of class. Depending on my mood, sometimes I will give them a little extra time to “figure it out”. I know the kids guess. Today, my motivation to teach was lacking, so I didn’t give them a multiple choice question. Instead, it was a question about two boys that were racing. One started at a disadvantage but ran faster. I asked them to tell me who won and by how much. The kids always want to know what the correct answer is, but most don’t pay attention to the explanation. Today, none of those kids in second period had any clue how to do the problem. They were just interested in guessing which of the two boys won the race.
Two Test asked me to divulge who the winner was after everybody gave me an answer. When I told them, she celebrated being the only person who “solved” the problem. Mouth started going off. She does need to work on volume control. Finally, I had to stop her by saying, “You do realize that as long as do the problem, you get credit?” She replied, “Oh, yeah, I know,” and calmed down a bit.
I learned a few things about that class today – 1) Two Test is dating Shawshank (maybe he isn’t as intelligent as I thought) and 2) the new boy likes smoking weed. He definitely appeared to be stoned today, and the other girls even made mention of that several times.
Oddly enough, that class forgot all about the candy at the end of the period. I need to go buy some more candy bars for tomorrow, or else there might be a revolt.
My third period was much the same. I received some pretty good luck and some pretty bad luck.
Whisper was proud to show off his brand new tattoo. He now has his name on his forearm. I looked at it, and then told him, “You spelled your name wrong.” He looked down quickly, studied it for a second, then replied, “No, I didn’t!” I guess it is an important thing to remember, and he shouldn’t have a problem now.
Whisper then gave me the greatest gift that any NHS could give a teacher – he fell asleep. A month ago, I would have attempted to wake him up. I’ve learned not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I let him bury his head in his arms and be quiet for the first time since I met him several months ago.
Good luck.
Now for the bad luck.
Strahan was back from his suspension today. It was a suspension that stemmed from the write-up I had produced last week. He was on my case the entire period. It started with petty insults, such as calling me “Mr. Potato Head”. I do have a large head, but I have also learned that I don’t need to worry too much about what I say to these kids. I know just enough about most of them to twist the knife just a bit. I said, “Let me get this straight: A seventeen year old eighth grader is making fun of his teacher for having a large head!?” My remark was met with sllight laughter from his classmates and a look of irritation strewn across Strahan’s face.
Later, he complained about his suspensions, throwing as many excuses as his underdeveloped brain could come up with. I was attempting to help the class finish the worksheet I had given Friday. I am trying to give them more grades this semester in hopes that it will help them increase their cumulative grades. Or that’s what I’ve been saying to them. I asked, “How many of you were unhappy with your math grade last term?” I was trying to make the point that I was going to give them more opportunities to earn points this term, but Strahan added on, “How many of you are unhappy with your math teacher?” He got a little bit of support. I noticed that Whisper had his hand raised, but more important, I saw that Dogface kept his hands on his desk. He might be coming around to me.
I was able to easily turn it around on Strahan again. I asked him how many times he had repeated grades. Only twice. Whisper has repeated once. I asked Strahan if he was unhappy with the teachers who failed him because he did so poorly in their classes. He quickly attempted to make a distinction, telling me that his math grades were good until he got to my class. I think I made my point and quickly told him to shut his mouth as I moved on with my lesson. I’ll get him good tomorrow:
Q: You know what’s the only thing worse than a 17-year old 8th grader?
A: An 18-year old 8th grader.
I attempted to sit in the room next door to me during lunch, but some of the women in there are absolutely unbearable. You would think that being a special education teacher is more demanding and important than being the President of the United States of America. Whenever I look in that room, there are no more than two kids. I could be a great teacher if I only had two kids. I would like to see a couple of those teachers attempt to handle my homeroom.
Fourth period was a big group today, but I didn’t have a whole lot of discipline problems. The Silver Tongue met my greeting by turning to a classmate, saying, “I ain’t even gonna talk to Mr. C------- today.” I am a bit stunned that she wasn’t suspended for her actions in my class on Friday. I think her actions warranted atleast a couple of days at home. Not much I can do about it now, so I did my best to teach her what I could.
I was very pleased with The Silver Tongue and Check Slapper today. They both worked for most of the hour and I didn’t need to redirect them at all. Suit Man received a check because I could not get him to stop talking. Ups and downs. Ups and downs.
One of the teachers was absent, and she didn’t have a substitute, so I needed to take in a few of her students. I was treated to an extra hour of Big Kid in Camo, Smiley, and Jamaican Mon today. They were complaining about being stuck in my class for consecutive hours. I just said, “Imagine being in here all day.” The view wasn’t much better from my end.
The extra students didn’t cause too many problems, but Smiley was constantly getting up and moving by Iron Mike and Third Bun in the Oven. Maybe I am getting old, but I can’t see how any guy could have any interest in either one of them. What was worse was Jamaican Mon, who told me that I needed to give a check to somebody every time a word was spoken. “Man, I’m just sayin’, if that was me, you woulda kicked me out. That’s not fair. You trippin’.” I really didn’t have an opportunity to discipline too many students because every time it was appropriate, Jamaican Mon interrupted me.
I got through some class examples and gave the students some time to work. I have been told that a common mistake that beginning teachers make is trying to do everything. I know I need to sit back a bit more and let the kids figure things out for themselves. Unfortunately, this meant that many of them were sitting back too. I didn’t see a whole lot of work being done.
My new golden boy, Shawshank, was doing his work. He called me back and asked a question, and listened intently as I explained the problem. I haven’t been prying much with these students, but after he told me he would be at a different school next year, I couldn’t help but ask: “What are you doing at this school?” He didn’t go into details, instead saying, “I got into some minor trouble at my old school.” Maybe as the days go on, he will become more comfortable and expand a little bit. Nothing would really surprise me.
Prudence was on her way back to ask a question. I have been pleased with her effort since the “you don’t know how to teach good” episode. She has been doing her work every day and was one of a handful of students to finish her worksheet in class today. I answered her question and she went to return to her desk.
Upon her arrival, she noticed that PintSize had switched seats and now was occupying her seat. This didn’t sit well with Prudence. “What you doin’ in my seat?” she said with her short, fat body hovering over the even shorter, slender PintSize. I was worried that I was going to see my first physical fight in my room. PintSize stood up and said, “Get your big-titted self out of my face.” I just put a hand between them and PintSize retreated to her original seat. I still can’t say that I have broken up a fight, but I think I may have help prevent one.
After class, I was talking to Prudence about avoiding confrontation, and Suit Man felt the urge to chime in. “I don’t appreciate you picking fights with my friend,” he said to Prudence. I was able to get him to leave the room and finish with Prudence. I can’t believe how unpopular she is with her fellow classmates. I don’t think she has any friends at this school. I feel kind of bad for her.
Fifth period saw the arrival of four new students, including Onepac’s sister. Even though he would deny it, Onepac’s sister is more intimidating than he is. That isn’t to say that she is intimidating in the least, but she is taller, bigger, and probably a better rapper than he is.
The surprise of the day came from Skinny Kid in Camo: HE IS NO LONGER WEARING CAMO! I don’t know if I ever explained it, but the camo is a punishment for students with a lot of dress code violations and behavior problems. It made me smile. He is turning it around. I told him that he “almost looked presentable”.
He said, “You say I lookin’ good?”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”
It is funny what a kid’s clothes will do to him. His appearance and behavior went hand in hand, as his speech seemed slowed and his attention was focused on the task at hand. I am still holding out hope that he might be able to make something of himself beyond the typical NHS student.
With the four new students in my class today, I attempted as best as I could to catch them up. I don’t know what, if anything, they gained from my teaching, but I gave it a shot. I do not understand why they are still sending kids here. There has been talk that we are going to divvy up the classes again to even out the numbers.
In homeroom, I tried to discuss good advice and life lessons with my students. I played “The Sunscreen Song” (look it up if you haven’t heard it before) for them. Unfortunately, many of them were talking and made it difficult to hear. Psycho T and the Great Black Hope thought it was neat, but most of the rest of the class agreed it was “lame”. They wanted to listen to Lil Wayne instead. Atleast I can say I tried. I guess that black people typically don’t wear sunscreen, so maybe the advice doesn’t apply to them.
At the end of homeroom, Jam Master Jay approached me about retracting a check I had made him write during first hour. I told him that the issue I had was he wasn’t learning from his mistakes. He talks ALL the time. He told me that he was told he can’t get any more checks if he wants to pass. Do I believe that he will change his behavior? Absolutely not. But I also don’t want to be the one to hold a kid back, so I handed him his check. I also warned him that I wouldn’t hesitate to make him write one tomorrow if he is out of line at all.
It’s getting hard to not throw in the towel with these kids. I don’t know how much of this is getting through, and many are already on mental vacation (many are on permanent vacation). The best advice I’ve been given here is definitely “just do the best you can”. I’m not going to save the world. Sometimes, I’m not much more than a well-paid babysitter. I still have enough pride where I am trying to be the best damned babysitter I can be.
17.5 more days with kids. Not like I am counting or anything…
In the first minutes of my initial class of the day, I needed to run to the office to correct my attendance. While there, I was greeting with a handshake and a big smile. I’m not sure what he was doing there, but Step Six greeted me like he was a straight A student and I was his favorite teacher. Believe it or not, it was actually nice to see him. It was even nicer because I knew he wouldn’t be in my class.
First period saw the return of some favorites: Rosie, Hand Cramps, Chocolate Crotch Crammer, and the Boy with the Tattooed Hands. Both Rosie and Hand Cramps (besides earning a check for putting her hands around Jam Master Jay’s neck) remained silent, but Chocolate Crotch Crammer and Tattooed Hands made their presence(s) felt.
Every time I redirected CCC, she said how she wasn’t going to do anything. “You just gonna get me suspended again,” she would said, “Shoot!”
The Boy with the Tattooed Hands didn’t have any run-ins with me, but he did drop an f-bomb on another student and kicked a chair towards her. I gave him a check, which he actually wrote in relative silence. I was a bit surprised.
Once again, I taught to the one kid that knew what I was talking about (Big White Kid), while the rest of the class carried on dozens of pointless and aimless conversations. At the head of the issue was Teletubby…
He came in late, and he immediately began talking about the boy who he fought over the weekend. I do think it would be amusing to watch this kid fight. I would imagine slapping and hair grabbing would be commonplace. Anyways, he continued to talk and gossip loudly. He received two checks from me, because even as I was telling him not to talk, he continued conversing with those around him.
At the end of the class, I simply asked Teletubby what he learned during class. “Well...” he started, “I learned who is fake, which of my friends is fake, and who is ignorance.” I smiled, thinking of the irony behind the statement that he made. One of Teletubby’s favorite sayings is “Ignorance is bliss”. He says it at the most random times. Ignorance is bliss - Maybe that is why he always seems so happy.
Second period consisted of Linda Blair, Mouth, Two Test, and the newer boy. They have been fairly well-behaved lately, albeit a bit desperate for candy. Two Test immediately asked if I had any of “those little peppermints” upon entering the room. She told me that she didn’t feel very well and needed something in her mouth. I told her to do her work and that maybe I could help her out later. She asked again a minute later:
“Mr. C-------, can I play have a mitten?”
I was a bit baffled. I believe at that point, the air conditioning was off, so I couldn’t figure out how she could be cold. A minute later, she asked again. When I asked her to specify, she said, “You know, one of those little mittens.” Finally, Mouth translated for me – mitten = mint.
I guess it shouldn’t surprise me coming from a girl who once took the same test twice without noticing, but I did get a kick out of it. Every time any of those girls got out of line at all, I would just say, “Who wants a mitten?” and they would giggle and continue working.
I am also amused at how they approach their bell ringers. I’m not going to lie – the main reason that I do the bell ringers is to bide time to take attendance and get everything ready for the rest of class. Depending on my mood, sometimes I will give them a little extra time to “figure it out”. I know the kids guess. Today, my motivation to teach was lacking, so I didn’t give them a multiple choice question. Instead, it was a question about two boys that were racing. One started at a disadvantage but ran faster. I asked them to tell me who won and by how much. The kids always want to know what the correct answer is, but most don’t pay attention to the explanation. Today, none of those kids in second period had any clue how to do the problem. They were just interested in guessing which of the two boys won the race.
Two Test asked me to divulge who the winner was after everybody gave me an answer. When I told them, she celebrated being the only person who “solved” the problem. Mouth started going off. She does need to work on volume control. Finally, I had to stop her by saying, “You do realize that as long as do the problem, you get credit?” She replied, “Oh, yeah, I know,” and calmed down a bit.
I learned a few things about that class today – 1) Two Test is dating Shawshank (maybe he isn’t as intelligent as I thought) and 2) the new boy likes smoking weed. He definitely appeared to be stoned today, and the other girls even made mention of that several times.
Oddly enough, that class forgot all about the candy at the end of the period. I need to go buy some more candy bars for tomorrow, or else there might be a revolt.
My third period was much the same. I received some pretty good luck and some pretty bad luck.
Whisper was proud to show off his brand new tattoo. He now has his name on his forearm. I looked at it, and then told him, “You spelled your name wrong.” He looked down quickly, studied it for a second, then replied, “No, I didn’t!” I guess it is an important thing to remember, and he shouldn’t have a problem now.
Whisper then gave me the greatest gift that any NHS could give a teacher – he fell asleep. A month ago, I would have attempted to wake him up. I’ve learned not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I let him bury his head in his arms and be quiet for the first time since I met him several months ago.
Good luck.
Now for the bad luck.
Strahan was back from his suspension today. It was a suspension that stemmed from the write-up I had produced last week. He was on my case the entire period. It started with petty insults, such as calling me “Mr. Potato Head”. I do have a large head, but I have also learned that I don’t need to worry too much about what I say to these kids. I know just enough about most of them to twist the knife just a bit. I said, “Let me get this straight: A seventeen year old eighth grader is making fun of his teacher for having a large head!?” My remark was met with sllight laughter from his classmates and a look of irritation strewn across Strahan’s face.
Later, he complained about his suspensions, throwing as many excuses as his underdeveloped brain could come up with. I was attempting to help the class finish the worksheet I had given Friday. I am trying to give them more grades this semester in hopes that it will help them increase their cumulative grades. Or that’s what I’ve been saying to them. I asked, “How many of you were unhappy with your math grade last term?” I was trying to make the point that I was going to give them more opportunities to earn points this term, but Strahan added on, “How many of you are unhappy with your math teacher?” He got a little bit of support. I noticed that Whisper had his hand raised, but more important, I saw that Dogface kept his hands on his desk. He might be coming around to me.
I was able to easily turn it around on Strahan again. I asked him how many times he had repeated grades. Only twice. Whisper has repeated once. I asked Strahan if he was unhappy with the teachers who failed him because he did so poorly in their classes. He quickly attempted to make a distinction, telling me that his math grades were good until he got to my class. I think I made my point and quickly told him to shut his mouth as I moved on with my lesson. I’ll get him good tomorrow:
Q: You know what’s the only thing worse than a 17-year old 8th grader?
A: An 18-year old 8th grader.
I attempted to sit in the room next door to me during lunch, but some of the women in there are absolutely unbearable. You would think that being a special education teacher is more demanding and important than being the President of the United States of America. Whenever I look in that room, there are no more than two kids. I could be a great teacher if I only had two kids. I would like to see a couple of those teachers attempt to handle my homeroom.
Fourth period was a big group today, but I didn’t have a whole lot of discipline problems. The Silver Tongue met my greeting by turning to a classmate, saying, “I ain’t even gonna talk to Mr. C------- today.” I am a bit stunned that she wasn’t suspended for her actions in my class on Friday. I think her actions warranted atleast a couple of days at home. Not much I can do about it now, so I did my best to teach her what I could.
I was very pleased with The Silver Tongue and Check Slapper today. They both worked for most of the hour and I didn’t need to redirect them at all. Suit Man received a check because I could not get him to stop talking. Ups and downs. Ups and downs.
One of the teachers was absent, and she didn’t have a substitute, so I needed to take in a few of her students. I was treated to an extra hour of Big Kid in Camo, Smiley, and Jamaican Mon today. They were complaining about being stuck in my class for consecutive hours. I just said, “Imagine being in here all day.” The view wasn’t much better from my end.
The extra students didn’t cause too many problems, but Smiley was constantly getting up and moving by Iron Mike and Third Bun in the Oven. Maybe I am getting old, but I can’t see how any guy could have any interest in either one of them. What was worse was Jamaican Mon, who told me that I needed to give a check to somebody every time a word was spoken. “Man, I’m just sayin’, if that was me, you woulda kicked me out. That’s not fair. You trippin’.” I really didn’t have an opportunity to discipline too many students because every time it was appropriate, Jamaican Mon interrupted me.
I got through some class examples and gave the students some time to work. I have been told that a common mistake that beginning teachers make is trying to do everything. I know I need to sit back a bit more and let the kids figure things out for themselves. Unfortunately, this meant that many of them were sitting back too. I didn’t see a whole lot of work being done.
My new golden boy, Shawshank, was doing his work. He called me back and asked a question, and listened intently as I explained the problem. I haven’t been prying much with these students, but after he told me he would be at a different school next year, I couldn’t help but ask: “What are you doing at this school?” He didn’t go into details, instead saying, “I got into some minor trouble at my old school.” Maybe as the days go on, he will become more comfortable and expand a little bit. Nothing would really surprise me.
Prudence was on her way back to ask a question. I have been pleased with her effort since the “you don’t know how to teach good” episode. She has been doing her work every day and was one of a handful of students to finish her worksheet in class today. I answered her question and she went to return to her desk.
Upon her arrival, she noticed that PintSize had switched seats and now was occupying her seat. This didn’t sit well with Prudence. “What you doin’ in my seat?” she said with her short, fat body hovering over the even shorter, slender PintSize. I was worried that I was going to see my first physical fight in my room. PintSize stood up and said, “Get your big-titted self out of my face.” I just put a hand between them and PintSize retreated to her original seat. I still can’t say that I have broken up a fight, but I think I may have help prevent one.
After class, I was talking to Prudence about avoiding confrontation, and Suit Man felt the urge to chime in. “I don’t appreciate you picking fights with my friend,” he said to Prudence. I was able to get him to leave the room and finish with Prudence. I can’t believe how unpopular she is with her fellow classmates. I don’t think she has any friends at this school. I feel kind of bad for her.
Fifth period saw the arrival of four new students, including Onepac’s sister. Even though he would deny it, Onepac’s sister is more intimidating than he is. That isn’t to say that she is intimidating in the least, but she is taller, bigger, and probably a better rapper than he is.
The surprise of the day came from Skinny Kid in Camo: HE IS NO LONGER WEARING CAMO! I don’t know if I ever explained it, but the camo is a punishment for students with a lot of dress code violations and behavior problems. It made me smile. He is turning it around. I told him that he “almost looked presentable”.
He said, “You say I lookin’ good?”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”
It is funny what a kid’s clothes will do to him. His appearance and behavior went hand in hand, as his speech seemed slowed and his attention was focused on the task at hand. I am still holding out hope that he might be able to make something of himself beyond the typical NHS student.
With the four new students in my class today, I attempted as best as I could to catch them up. I don’t know what, if anything, they gained from my teaching, but I gave it a shot. I do not understand why they are still sending kids here. There has been talk that we are going to divvy up the classes again to even out the numbers.
In homeroom, I tried to discuss good advice and life lessons with my students. I played “The Sunscreen Song” (look it up if you haven’t heard it before) for them. Unfortunately, many of them were talking and made it difficult to hear. Psycho T and the Great Black Hope thought it was neat, but most of the rest of the class agreed it was “lame”. They wanted to listen to Lil Wayne instead. Atleast I can say I tried. I guess that black people typically don’t wear sunscreen, so maybe the advice doesn’t apply to them.
At the end of homeroom, Jam Master Jay approached me about retracting a check I had made him write during first hour. I told him that the issue I had was he wasn’t learning from his mistakes. He talks ALL the time. He told me that he was told he can’t get any more checks if he wants to pass. Do I believe that he will change his behavior? Absolutely not. But I also don’t want to be the one to hold a kid back, so I handed him his check. I also warned him that I wouldn’t hesitate to make him write one tomorrow if he is out of line at all.
It’s getting hard to not throw in the towel with these kids. I don’t know how much of this is getting through, and many are already on mental vacation (many are on permanent vacation). The best advice I’ve been given here is definitely “just do the best you can”. I’m not going to save the world. Sometimes, I’m not much more than a well-paid babysitter. I still have enough pride where I am trying to be the best damned babysitter I can be.
17.5 more days with kids. Not like I am counting or anything…
Sunday, April 26, 2009
A Couple Firsts, a Second, a Third, and a Fifth
I had an entertaining weekend and was able to cross a few more things off of my list.
On Friday, I began my weekend by doing a little bargain shopping at TJ Maxx and Best Buy. Next, I got to experience another festival - another Italian Heritage Festival in the town just north of where I live. It wasn't one of the better ones I've been to, but I did get to enjoy a few beers and some catfish.
After listening to a mediocre band and watching lots of fat people eating, drinking, and being awkward, we went to the Crescent and watched lots of attractive women mingling. Once again, I proved how little game I have as I spent the night with a mug to my lips.
Saturday was a full day. We went to the Hornets-Nuggets playoff game. It was my second Hornets game. This time, we were one row below the top of the arena. For $12, I can't really complain. It was a really good game, with the Hornets fighting back from an early deficit to win by two points. I was a bit surprised by the number of empty seats, but it was a fun atmosphere and the first NBA Playoff game that I'd ever been to.
After the game, we decided to go to the New Orleans Jazz Festival. Surprisingly, I experienced another first on the way to the park. I had never taken a cab before hopping in the taxi and getting a ride to the festival grounds.
Tickets were a bit pricey - $50, but I know I probably won't have the opportunity again. I have also really missed listening to live music. I have seen a couple of bar bands, but nothing that can compete with Blueheels, Cory Chisel, or Tim Schweiger. Atleast not until yesterday.
I hadn't expected on going to the festival, so I wasn't wearing a hat. The people I was with decided that the best way to shield me from the sun was an alligator bandana. I looked absolutely ridiculous.
Yesterday, the headliners were James Taylor and Wilco. No disrespect to Sweet Baby James, but Wilco is one of my favorite bands and they'd win out for me every time. My uncle walked to the other end of the fairgrounds and watched James Taylor, while I sat with the two other people I was with and watched Wilco play.
This was my fifth time seeing Wilco (four with the full band and once when it was just lead singer Jeff Tweedy playing solo acoustic). It wasn't one of their better performances, being a bit looser and shorter because of the festival format. However, it was a lot of fun. It was a bit ironic because I had wanted to see them when they were in Milwaukee while I was home. Unfortunately, I was at the Hornets game when tickets were on sale and I couldn't buy any before it sold out.
After the show, we were waiting in a very lengthy line to hail a cab back to our car underneath the Superdome. While in line, we watched a group of black guys playing basketball. It was fascinating. They were all extremely well-built and very athletic. They were also atrocious basketball players. There was very little passing and a lot of ill-advised long-range jump shots. Their form was terrible. I believe in fifteen minutes, I saw three baskets made.
One of the most defined players was busy barking at his teammates. He was the "leader", but did very little on the court. It was merely a pickup game, but you would have thought that this game was to win the NBA Champioinship. After their "game" concluded, he started screaming, "Y'all suck! That's why we fuckin' lost!" Several times during the next game, players got in each others' faces and it looked like fighting would ensue. I would enjoy getting a group of guys together and taking them on. I am a terrible basketball player, but I am certain my friends and I would whip them.
My uncle and I decided to save money by taking a bus to Bourbon Street. It was my third and easily tamest experience there. I took it easy on the sauce, only having two drinks. Next week, I plan on getting after it a bit more.
It was pretty empty, atleast for Bourbon Street. We walked past what appeared to be a few lesbian bars and went to the Louis Armstrong Park. Let's just say that if I ever find my game and I'm in with GOMD in Nawlins, that's where I would like to take her.
Before walking back to our car, we made our way towards the Canal Street Plaza Hotel. We had stayed there for $40 last time. On the way, we began talking to a very strange man who offered to share his room with us (he lives there monthly). When he noticed our hesitation, he promised that he wouldn't "go all Brokeback Mountain" on us. We told him that we would let him know. We won't.
I spent most of my day today watching basketball. Took a brief jog to get some of the garbage out of my system. I need to start working out more. Still haven't written my lesson plans, which is what I will do now.
It was a good weekend and I am honestly looking forward to this week. I am starting to lower my expectations of my students and finally getting down to their level. That's not to say that this week will be smooth and it certain will never be easy. As we always say at NHS:
It is what it is.
On Friday, I began my weekend by doing a little bargain shopping at TJ Maxx and Best Buy. Next, I got to experience another festival - another Italian Heritage Festival in the town just north of where I live. It wasn't one of the better ones I've been to, but I did get to enjoy a few beers and some catfish.
After listening to a mediocre band and watching lots of fat people eating, drinking, and being awkward, we went to the Crescent and watched lots of attractive women mingling. Once again, I proved how little game I have as I spent the night with a mug to my lips.
Saturday was a full day. We went to the Hornets-Nuggets playoff game. It was my second Hornets game. This time, we were one row below the top of the arena. For $12, I can't really complain. It was a really good game, with the Hornets fighting back from an early deficit to win by two points. I was a bit surprised by the number of empty seats, but it was a fun atmosphere and the first NBA Playoff game that I'd ever been to.
After the game, we decided to go to the New Orleans Jazz Festival. Surprisingly, I experienced another first on the way to the park. I had never taken a cab before hopping in the taxi and getting a ride to the festival grounds.
Tickets were a bit pricey - $50, but I know I probably won't have the opportunity again. I have also really missed listening to live music. I have seen a couple of bar bands, but nothing that can compete with Blueheels, Cory Chisel, or Tim Schweiger. Atleast not until yesterday.
I hadn't expected on going to the festival, so I wasn't wearing a hat. The people I was with decided that the best way to shield me from the sun was an alligator bandana. I looked absolutely ridiculous.
Yesterday, the headliners were James Taylor and Wilco. No disrespect to Sweet Baby James, but Wilco is one of my favorite bands and they'd win out for me every time. My uncle walked to the other end of the fairgrounds and watched James Taylor, while I sat with the two other people I was with and watched Wilco play.
This was my fifth time seeing Wilco (four with the full band and once when it was just lead singer Jeff Tweedy playing solo acoustic). It wasn't one of their better performances, being a bit looser and shorter because of the festival format. However, it was a lot of fun. It was a bit ironic because I had wanted to see them when they were in Milwaukee while I was home. Unfortunately, I was at the Hornets game when tickets were on sale and I couldn't buy any before it sold out.
After the show, we were waiting in a very lengthy line to hail a cab back to our car underneath the Superdome. While in line, we watched a group of black guys playing basketball. It was fascinating. They were all extremely well-built and very athletic. They were also atrocious basketball players. There was very little passing and a lot of ill-advised long-range jump shots. Their form was terrible. I believe in fifteen minutes, I saw three baskets made.
One of the most defined players was busy barking at his teammates. He was the "leader", but did very little on the court. It was merely a pickup game, but you would have thought that this game was to win the NBA Champioinship. After their "game" concluded, he started screaming, "Y'all suck! That's why we fuckin' lost!" Several times during the next game, players got in each others' faces and it looked like fighting would ensue. I would enjoy getting a group of guys together and taking them on. I am a terrible basketball player, but I am certain my friends and I would whip them.
My uncle and I decided to save money by taking a bus to Bourbon Street. It was my third and easily tamest experience there. I took it easy on the sauce, only having two drinks. Next week, I plan on getting after it a bit more.
It was pretty empty, atleast for Bourbon Street. We walked past what appeared to be a few lesbian bars and went to the Louis Armstrong Park. Let's just say that if I ever find my game and I'm in with GOMD in Nawlins, that's where I would like to take her.
Before walking back to our car, we made our way towards the Canal Street Plaza Hotel. We had stayed there for $40 last time. On the way, we began talking to a very strange man who offered to share his room with us (he lives there monthly). When he noticed our hesitation, he promised that he wouldn't "go all Brokeback Mountain" on us. We told him that we would let him know. We won't.
I spent most of my day today watching basketball. Took a brief jog to get some of the garbage out of my system. I need to start working out more. Still haven't written my lesson plans, which is what I will do now.
It was a good weekend and I am honestly looking forward to this week. I am starting to lower my expectations of my students and finally getting down to their level. That's not to say that this week will be smooth and it certain will never be easy. As we always say at NHS:
It is what it is.
Friday, April 24, 2009
TGIF-ing
I was in a good mood this morning as I came to school. Despite the fact my uncle had a flat tire and I still felt pregnant from the seafood gorging that I had the night before, I was happy to see the end of the week. It’s been a rough one.
My day got off to a shaky start. The students were lined up outside my door and I could tell a few of them would be “lively”. Psycho T dropped to the floor after some playful shoving from Miss Cheaterly and Dinosaur. I scolded them, but acted no further. About a minute later, I had no choice.
The kids always walk into my room in a line and go to the back of the room to grab their folders which has all of their work in it. It is the same procedure for every class, and normally doesn’t cause a whole lot of problems. Unfortunately, my first period is my largest class, so it gets congested in the back of the room. I also monitor the hallway, which means that I can’t enter my room right away, so sometimes, the first few students in my room cause some problems.
Cheaterly and Dinosaur continued their playful fighting. The short, fat instigator (we’ll just call her “The Instigator”) was also running around with her fists up. Dinosaur was on top of Cheaterly, punching her in the back of the head. It is amazing that these kids play in such a manner. I knew that there was to be no rough-housing of any kind, so I kicked both of them out.
I made the mistake of walking about 5 feet outside of my classroom. It was just far enough so I couldn’t see my entire room. I heard some loud shrieks, so I hurried back to the door and noticed that The Instigator was chasing a girl. Her fists were raised and a smile was plastered on her face. I was really agitated and told her to leave as well. The Instigator had told me only ten minutes before that I looked ugly today. I was about to get ugly too.
As I was yelling at her to leave, she sat and said, “I ain’t going anywhere. I didn’t do anything.” She refused to move, so I needed to get the security woman. I had my back turned to the Instigator, and she must have motioned like she was going to hit me, because the security lady said, “Go ahead. Hit him.” She didn’t, but as she was making her way for the door, she did bump me on purpose.
The rest of the first period went better than it had in recent days. I was a bit disappointed that neither Hand Cramps nor Rosie was suspended, but I was glad that both had been given in-school suspensions. Perhaps, that is more of a punishment. I don’t know.
I had a few more students doing their work during that period than expected. Many completed the worksheet that I handed out yesterday. Among the group that didn’t was Teletubby…
He once again complained about headaches and sat like a blob with his face in his hand. My overhead turned off, and when it was turned back on, a message came on the screen that said the filter should be checked. Teletubby said to me, “Baby, you better check that.” Now, I guess my prospects for cat aren’t too good, but if I ever want to change teams, it appears like I’d have atleast one eligible bachelor(?).
Second period brought the girl power. Four girls, no boys. The class went pretty smoothly, probably because (as Mouth put it) “the two idiots (Candy Bar Man and his buddy) weren’t there”. The new kid was absent and Terry Schiavo must have slipped back into his coma.
Before my class began, Linda Blair was sent outside to run. She had gotten in trouble with one of the sergeants. I expected her to be in a terrible mood when she returned. That wasn’t the case. She actually seemed interested in learning the material, which was a shock. For a good fifteen minutes, she did all of her work
Of course, all good things must come to an end, and as soon as she came across a problem that she couldn’t solve on first try, she said that she gave up and was “about to throw this paper at someone’s head.” I worked her through it and nobody got beaned.
Towards the end of class, the girls started asking for candy. I told them that all I had was the small mints my mother had sent me for St. Pattie’s Day. They grounded and said it was “not fair”, but everybody still wanted them. I can’t remember ever caring much about candy when I was going through school.
Third period had the highest ratio of talk to work, but I did have a few bright spots. At the beginning of class, only Dogface was doing his bell ringer. To make a point, I got out a piece of paper and wrote I owed him one bonus buck. I had run out, but I didn’t think the administration would mind. They didn’t, so I know later in the day, he got a candy bar or a soda. This led a few other students to do their work. Man Man was not among them, and I got on his case and made him fill out an accountability form, which he did after much complaining and a check.
Per usual, I was teaching to a select few. Whisper had been moved to the front of the room because he was talking loudly. I asked him who his favorite athlete was and he responded, “Drew Brees.” I asked if he thought Drew Brees only worked hard in the games or if he practiced hard year round. Whisper agreed that he worked hard all the time, but it was for the money.
A minute later, Whisper was still all about getting paid. “Ain’t you gonna give me any candy if I do my work?” he asked. “I don’t know,” I replied.
Surprisingly, he started doing his work anyway. I know that he was going to attempt to coerce me into giving him candy, but I was still shocked that he was making such a strong effort. I couldn’t wait any longer, and I gave him a bonus buck. I am relatively certain that he had never received one before. This was with a few minutes remaining in the class, and I told him that he better keep working until the horn sounded or I would take it back. He did.
I talked to him for a minute after class. I told him that if he worked that hard all the time, he would pass my class. He responded, very eloquently, with, “Can I get some candy now, too?” I smiled and said, “No. I gave you a bonus buck because you did your work without expecting anything in return (not true). Now, get out of here.” I guess it was worth a shot to him. I hear him walking around the school asking every teacher for candy.
Fourth period belonged to one student.
It started off fairly well. Suit Man was back at the front of the line. He informed me that he had been a pallbearer at a funeral and the casket was really heavy. Shortly after he broke the news to me, more students joined and I allowed them to enter the room.
One white student with a cast spoke for the first time in class ever. He told me that he was instructed to go talk to Sgt. Grinch. I saw no problem in that and was writing a pass when I nonchalantly asked what he needed to go for. “He said to come see him about getting my phone back.” I stopped writing, folded the paper and put it in my pocket. I told him that I wasn’t going to let him go, and he grew very angry and called it “stupid”. I put a check on his desk, which he instantly crumpled up. I walked by and said, “Now, write it for ten.” I was sure that he was going to be kicked out.
Then, surprisingly, he unfolded his check and filled it out for me. I was stunned. He spent the rest of the class period with his head down. I’ve never had a kid blow up like that and then be able to catch themselves.
The main drama of period four centered around The Silver Tongue. She was sitting directly behind Check Slapper, and started hitting her on the back of the head. They were playing, and Check Slapper turned around and weakly hit The Silver Tongue in the face. I removed both of them from the room.
Security wasn’t around, and I didn’t think what they did was unforgiveable, so I told them to each write a $10 check and not let it happen again, because if I was told to write a referral, I knew they would be suspended. The Silver Tongue sat two seats away from Check Slapper, and I thought the drama was over.
I was wrong. The Silver Tongue raised her hand and said, “Mr. C-------, can I ask you a question?” I responded, “Yeah. You just did.” As I continued talking, she interrupted, “I mean two more questions. Can I ask two more? Okay, that was one. Why are you teaching us the same thing over and over again this week? You are supposed to be teaching us different things and then on Friday, review what we’ve learned.”
I thought that it was ironic, considering two weeks ago, everybody was complaining about how I went too fast, but I fielded her question. At the board, I tried to explain how important the concept we were working on was. I was interrupted not only by The Silver Tongue, but also by several other students. They told her to “shut up and let the man teach”. I did get a kick out of it, but I kept trying to continue.
The Silver Tongue said, “I don’t care. Mr. C------, just teach what you’ve been teaching. I don’t wanna hear it.” This pint-sized new girl (PintSize) started jawing back and forth with The Silver Tongue. They were unable to give it a rest, and The Silver Tongue started calling her “Little Girl”. I couldn’t understand most of what they were saying, but I knew that it was time to get them apart, so I gave PintSize a check and told The Silver Tongue to get out. As she got out of her desk, she started walking towards PintSize, raising her voice even more. I had to stand between the two as they shouted back and forth. Finally, The Silver Tongue made her way towards the door and said, “This little girl is getting on my fucking nerves. Fuuuck.” I had the handle in my right hand as the Silver Tongue was walking through the exit. She caught me off guard by slamming it behind her.
A second later, Slowhand perked his bald head through the doorway and asked what had happened. I told him the story as The Silver Tongue listened on. She attempted to interrupt me several times before Slowhand cut her off. After I finished my statement, she said, “He a liar. Mr C------, you lyin’.”
I went back into the room, and Shawshank assured me that he didn’t have a problem with my teaching. As long as I’ve got one student behind me, I’ll be alright.
The rest of class was pretty uneventful besides Prudence threatening to pee her pants if I didn’t let her go to the bathroom. I didn’t. Sadly, her pants stayed dry.
After class, Suit Man, who had earlier asked to disagree about something, approached me. I assumed that he had finally gotten his report card and seen the F next to Algebra I. That wasn’t the case. He told me that he didn’t think PintSize deserved a check. He said that she was baited and he didn’t want to see his friend get in trouble. I gave him credit, but that didn’t mean I was about to take the check back.
The same three in fifth period once again. Outside, I saw them line up and said, “You three again?” in a disappointed voice. That got Onepac complaining early. “Man, you disappointed or something? Man, you was cool when you started here.” I threatened to give him a check for insinuating that I was ever cool.
In class, Skinny Kid in Camo and Smiley were working hard while Onepac was spacing out. He really does believe he is going to be a rapper. Even while he does his math work, he bobs his head and shakes his hand as he mouths whatever mediocre rhyme is stuck in his brain. I gave him a hard time for a while, but eventually, he was working on math along with the other two. Skinny Kid and Smiley both finished their worksheets and Onepac was getting close as the horn sounded. I pulled him aside afterwards and just told him that he needed to work hard the entire period. As he was headed out the door, I called his name and said, “And don’t you ever call me cool again.” He looked at me, puzzled, before saying, “Maaaaaan.”
Ho Man = MIA. Dammit.
I didn’t do a whole lot of the forgiveness curriculum during my homeroom. I asked a single question, mainly out of curiosity. I wanted to know if the reasons why my students were legit. In other words, I wanted to know who took responsibility for their actions. Jam Master Jay (fighting) was the first to admit that he had screwed up. The Big White Kid (sex in locker room) said that he didn’t have much defense because he was caught on tape. Teletubby said that he is messy, but he can always clean it up. I had no idea what that meant and didn’t want to. Anyways, the overwhelming majority blamed their expulsions on somebody else. It didn’t surprise me, especially being around these kids often.
I did learn that the Great Black Hope, somebody who is a surprise NHS student simply because she does her work and keeps relatively quiet, was expelled because she let Chocolate Crotch Crammer borrow a box cutter, which was brought to school to use on another student. Or atleast that is her side of the story. Maybe more to it.
The horn sounded only a few minutes into our discussion and the kids went on their way.
I was on my way to the office when I looked into the reading teacher’s room and saw one sight that irritated me and another that amazed me.
Irritated: The Silver Tongue was hitting another girl. Again. I couldn’t believe it.
Amazed: Standing in the room was GOMD. Wow.
I have always thought that you can judge true beauty by somebody that can wear anything. I love girls in a t-shirt and jeans. I even find girls attractive wearing sweatpants. GOMD was rocking a grey t-shirt and green athletic shorts. Short green shorts. It was very apparent that she wasn’t trying to look attractive. It was very apparent that she didn’t need to.
I am normally not quick, but I know that if I ever want to get a full sentence across to my southern belle, I need to be around her a bit more. It’s going to take time. I decided then and there to walk into this other room and lay into the Silver Tongue a bit. I would proof to GOMD that I was a man.
Maybe not. Like always, I stumbled on my words a little bit as I voiced my disappointment in the Silver Tongue. She had been in trouble in my room twice less than two hours earler. She started talking back and called me a liar again, so I reached into my pocket and said, “School isn’t over. Fill it out.” Check.
Of course, she refused, so my future mother-in-law had to come to my rescue. Maybe not so impressive to GOMD. She finally filled out the check, but wrote “Pay to the order of: Mrs. C-------“. I insisted that she correct it. She continued to complain, saying, “He always pickin’ on me. Tryin’ to get me in trouble.” I couldn’t take it much more. I knew I was going to break out laughing, so I had to leave the room. I didn’t even get a word in with GOMD, but we did share a smile. That was a big step for me.
We had our de-briefing a little while later. It was one of the greatest meetings of all time. First of all, Slowhand gave us the update on his wife, who was T-boned yesterday while backing out of her driveway.
“Uhh…nahhh…she got a couple of bruises…on da leg….but…doctor say…stay of it a couple day…she gon’ be okay…”
Next, Slowhand gave us his blessing for a wonderful weekend.
“Nah…it Friday...Go out…TGIF-ing…Payday…Hope ya got somebody to…spend it on nah…so…y’all have a good weekend…nah.”
Next up: Paychecks. Because I am technically a day-to-day sub, I had to wait, but I didn’t think I’d get paid until Monday. I won’t disclose the exact amount, but I will say that it was almost $1000 more than my first check.
Finally, some teachers received two envelopes and one received three: the special education teacher that I was complaining about yesterday. Apparently, her contract will not be renewed. She is the only person that isn’t ecstatic about that. I find it ironic that the day after she talked herself up so much, she found out that she got the ax. At the conclusion of the meeting, she left the room quickly and obviously upset. I only wish I could have seen the tears stream down her face.
The week ended a lot better than it began. I am down to four weeks of school remaining and really looking forward to next week, especially next weekend. When my buddy comes, Slowhand will be pleased to know that I’ll have somebody to spend my paycheck on…nah.
Every day, my opinion of this job and these kids fluctuates so much. Some days, I can’t stop smiling from ear to ear, and others, I look like I’ve been repeatedly run over by a truck. Today, I was free from too many bruises, and when I look at the number next to my name on that glorious sheet of paper, I am reminded that I only need to shake off the aches and pains for another four weeks.
My day got off to a shaky start. The students were lined up outside my door and I could tell a few of them would be “lively”. Psycho T dropped to the floor after some playful shoving from Miss Cheaterly and Dinosaur. I scolded them, but acted no further. About a minute later, I had no choice.
The kids always walk into my room in a line and go to the back of the room to grab their folders which has all of their work in it. It is the same procedure for every class, and normally doesn’t cause a whole lot of problems. Unfortunately, my first period is my largest class, so it gets congested in the back of the room. I also monitor the hallway, which means that I can’t enter my room right away, so sometimes, the first few students in my room cause some problems.
Cheaterly and Dinosaur continued their playful fighting. The short, fat instigator (we’ll just call her “The Instigator”) was also running around with her fists up. Dinosaur was on top of Cheaterly, punching her in the back of the head. It is amazing that these kids play in such a manner. I knew that there was to be no rough-housing of any kind, so I kicked both of them out.
I made the mistake of walking about 5 feet outside of my classroom. It was just far enough so I couldn’t see my entire room. I heard some loud shrieks, so I hurried back to the door and noticed that The Instigator was chasing a girl. Her fists were raised and a smile was plastered on her face. I was really agitated and told her to leave as well. The Instigator had told me only ten minutes before that I looked ugly today. I was about to get ugly too.
As I was yelling at her to leave, she sat and said, “I ain’t going anywhere. I didn’t do anything.” She refused to move, so I needed to get the security woman. I had my back turned to the Instigator, and she must have motioned like she was going to hit me, because the security lady said, “Go ahead. Hit him.” She didn’t, but as she was making her way for the door, she did bump me on purpose.
The rest of the first period went better than it had in recent days. I was a bit disappointed that neither Hand Cramps nor Rosie was suspended, but I was glad that both had been given in-school suspensions. Perhaps, that is more of a punishment. I don’t know.
I had a few more students doing their work during that period than expected. Many completed the worksheet that I handed out yesterday. Among the group that didn’t was Teletubby…
He once again complained about headaches and sat like a blob with his face in his hand. My overhead turned off, and when it was turned back on, a message came on the screen that said the filter should be checked. Teletubby said to me, “Baby, you better check that.” Now, I guess my prospects for cat aren’t too good, but if I ever want to change teams, it appears like I’d have atleast one eligible bachelor(?).
Second period brought the girl power. Four girls, no boys. The class went pretty smoothly, probably because (as Mouth put it) “the two idiots (Candy Bar Man and his buddy) weren’t there”. The new kid was absent and Terry Schiavo must have slipped back into his coma.
Before my class began, Linda Blair was sent outside to run. She had gotten in trouble with one of the sergeants. I expected her to be in a terrible mood when she returned. That wasn’t the case. She actually seemed interested in learning the material, which was a shock. For a good fifteen minutes, she did all of her work
Of course, all good things must come to an end, and as soon as she came across a problem that she couldn’t solve on first try, she said that she gave up and was “about to throw this paper at someone’s head.” I worked her through it and nobody got beaned.
Towards the end of class, the girls started asking for candy. I told them that all I had was the small mints my mother had sent me for St. Pattie’s Day. They grounded and said it was “not fair”, but everybody still wanted them. I can’t remember ever caring much about candy when I was going through school.
Third period had the highest ratio of talk to work, but I did have a few bright spots. At the beginning of class, only Dogface was doing his bell ringer. To make a point, I got out a piece of paper and wrote I owed him one bonus buck. I had run out, but I didn’t think the administration would mind. They didn’t, so I know later in the day, he got a candy bar or a soda. This led a few other students to do their work. Man Man was not among them, and I got on his case and made him fill out an accountability form, which he did after much complaining and a check.
Per usual, I was teaching to a select few. Whisper had been moved to the front of the room because he was talking loudly. I asked him who his favorite athlete was and he responded, “Drew Brees.” I asked if he thought Drew Brees only worked hard in the games or if he practiced hard year round. Whisper agreed that he worked hard all the time, but it was for the money.
A minute later, Whisper was still all about getting paid. “Ain’t you gonna give me any candy if I do my work?” he asked. “I don’t know,” I replied.
Surprisingly, he started doing his work anyway. I know that he was going to attempt to coerce me into giving him candy, but I was still shocked that he was making such a strong effort. I couldn’t wait any longer, and I gave him a bonus buck. I am relatively certain that he had never received one before. This was with a few minutes remaining in the class, and I told him that he better keep working until the horn sounded or I would take it back. He did.
I talked to him for a minute after class. I told him that if he worked that hard all the time, he would pass my class. He responded, very eloquently, with, “Can I get some candy now, too?” I smiled and said, “No. I gave you a bonus buck because you did your work without expecting anything in return (not true). Now, get out of here.” I guess it was worth a shot to him. I hear him walking around the school asking every teacher for candy.
Fourth period belonged to one student.
It started off fairly well. Suit Man was back at the front of the line. He informed me that he had been a pallbearer at a funeral and the casket was really heavy. Shortly after he broke the news to me, more students joined and I allowed them to enter the room.
One white student with a cast spoke for the first time in class ever. He told me that he was instructed to go talk to Sgt. Grinch. I saw no problem in that and was writing a pass when I nonchalantly asked what he needed to go for. “He said to come see him about getting my phone back.” I stopped writing, folded the paper and put it in my pocket. I told him that I wasn’t going to let him go, and he grew very angry and called it “stupid”. I put a check on his desk, which he instantly crumpled up. I walked by and said, “Now, write it for ten.” I was sure that he was going to be kicked out.
Then, surprisingly, he unfolded his check and filled it out for me. I was stunned. He spent the rest of the class period with his head down. I’ve never had a kid blow up like that and then be able to catch themselves.
The main drama of period four centered around The Silver Tongue. She was sitting directly behind Check Slapper, and started hitting her on the back of the head. They were playing, and Check Slapper turned around and weakly hit The Silver Tongue in the face. I removed both of them from the room.
Security wasn’t around, and I didn’t think what they did was unforgiveable, so I told them to each write a $10 check and not let it happen again, because if I was told to write a referral, I knew they would be suspended. The Silver Tongue sat two seats away from Check Slapper, and I thought the drama was over.
I was wrong. The Silver Tongue raised her hand and said, “Mr. C-------, can I ask you a question?” I responded, “Yeah. You just did.” As I continued talking, she interrupted, “I mean two more questions. Can I ask two more? Okay, that was one. Why are you teaching us the same thing over and over again this week? You are supposed to be teaching us different things and then on Friday, review what we’ve learned.”
I thought that it was ironic, considering two weeks ago, everybody was complaining about how I went too fast, but I fielded her question. At the board, I tried to explain how important the concept we were working on was. I was interrupted not only by The Silver Tongue, but also by several other students. They told her to “shut up and let the man teach”. I did get a kick out of it, but I kept trying to continue.
The Silver Tongue said, “I don’t care. Mr. C------, just teach what you’ve been teaching. I don’t wanna hear it.” This pint-sized new girl (PintSize) started jawing back and forth with The Silver Tongue. They were unable to give it a rest, and The Silver Tongue started calling her “Little Girl”. I couldn’t understand most of what they were saying, but I knew that it was time to get them apart, so I gave PintSize a check and told The Silver Tongue to get out. As she got out of her desk, she started walking towards PintSize, raising her voice even more. I had to stand between the two as they shouted back and forth. Finally, The Silver Tongue made her way towards the door and said, “This little girl is getting on my fucking nerves. Fuuuck.” I had the handle in my right hand as the Silver Tongue was walking through the exit. She caught me off guard by slamming it behind her.
A second later, Slowhand perked his bald head through the doorway and asked what had happened. I told him the story as The Silver Tongue listened on. She attempted to interrupt me several times before Slowhand cut her off. After I finished my statement, she said, “He a liar. Mr C------, you lyin’.”
I went back into the room, and Shawshank assured me that he didn’t have a problem with my teaching. As long as I’ve got one student behind me, I’ll be alright.
The rest of class was pretty uneventful besides Prudence threatening to pee her pants if I didn’t let her go to the bathroom. I didn’t. Sadly, her pants stayed dry.
After class, Suit Man, who had earlier asked to disagree about something, approached me. I assumed that he had finally gotten his report card and seen the F next to Algebra I. That wasn’t the case. He told me that he didn’t think PintSize deserved a check. He said that she was baited and he didn’t want to see his friend get in trouble. I gave him credit, but that didn’t mean I was about to take the check back.
The same three in fifth period once again. Outside, I saw them line up and said, “You three again?” in a disappointed voice. That got Onepac complaining early. “Man, you disappointed or something? Man, you was cool when you started here.” I threatened to give him a check for insinuating that I was ever cool.
In class, Skinny Kid in Camo and Smiley were working hard while Onepac was spacing out. He really does believe he is going to be a rapper. Even while he does his math work, he bobs his head and shakes his hand as he mouths whatever mediocre rhyme is stuck in his brain. I gave him a hard time for a while, but eventually, he was working on math along with the other two. Skinny Kid and Smiley both finished their worksheets and Onepac was getting close as the horn sounded. I pulled him aside afterwards and just told him that he needed to work hard the entire period. As he was headed out the door, I called his name and said, “And don’t you ever call me cool again.” He looked at me, puzzled, before saying, “Maaaaaan.”
Ho Man = MIA. Dammit.
I didn’t do a whole lot of the forgiveness curriculum during my homeroom. I asked a single question, mainly out of curiosity. I wanted to know if the reasons why my students were legit. In other words, I wanted to know who took responsibility for their actions. Jam Master Jay (fighting) was the first to admit that he had screwed up. The Big White Kid (sex in locker room) said that he didn’t have much defense because he was caught on tape. Teletubby said that he is messy, but he can always clean it up. I had no idea what that meant and didn’t want to. Anyways, the overwhelming majority blamed their expulsions on somebody else. It didn’t surprise me, especially being around these kids often.
I did learn that the Great Black Hope, somebody who is a surprise NHS student simply because she does her work and keeps relatively quiet, was expelled because she let Chocolate Crotch Crammer borrow a box cutter, which was brought to school to use on another student. Or atleast that is her side of the story. Maybe more to it.
The horn sounded only a few minutes into our discussion and the kids went on their way.
I was on my way to the office when I looked into the reading teacher’s room and saw one sight that irritated me and another that amazed me.
Irritated: The Silver Tongue was hitting another girl. Again. I couldn’t believe it.
Amazed: Standing in the room was GOMD. Wow.
I have always thought that you can judge true beauty by somebody that can wear anything. I love girls in a t-shirt and jeans. I even find girls attractive wearing sweatpants. GOMD was rocking a grey t-shirt and green athletic shorts. Short green shorts. It was very apparent that she wasn’t trying to look attractive. It was very apparent that she didn’t need to.
I am normally not quick, but I know that if I ever want to get a full sentence across to my southern belle, I need to be around her a bit more. It’s going to take time. I decided then and there to walk into this other room and lay into the Silver Tongue a bit. I would proof to GOMD that I was a man.
Maybe not. Like always, I stumbled on my words a little bit as I voiced my disappointment in the Silver Tongue. She had been in trouble in my room twice less than two hours earler. She started talking back and called me a liar again, so I reached into my pocket and said, “School isn’t over. Fill it out.” Check.
Of course, she refused, so my future mother-in-law had to come to my rescue. Maybe not so impressive to GOMD. She finally filled out the check, but wrote “Pay to the order of: Mrs. C-------“. I insisted that she correct it. She continued to complain, saying, “He always pickin’ on me. Tryin’ to get me in trouble.” I couldn’t take it much more. I knew I was going to break out laughing, so I had to leave the room. I didn’t even get a word in with GOMD, but we did share a smile. That was a big step for me.
We had our de-briefing a little while later. It was one of the greatest meetings of all time. First of all, Slowhand gave us the update on his wife, who was T-boned yesterday while backing out of her driveway.
“Uhh…nahhh…she got a couple of bruises…on da leg….but…doctor say…stay of it a couple day…she gon’ be okay…”
Next, Slowhand gave us his blessing for a wonderful weekend.
“Nah…it Friday...Go out…TGIF-ing…Payday…Hope ya got somebody to…spend it on nah…so…y’all have a good weekend…nah.”
Next up: Paychecks. Because I am technically a day-to-day sub, I had to wait, but I didn’t think I’d get paid until Monday. I won’t disclose the exact amount, but I will say that it was almost $1000 more than my first check.
Finally, some teachers received two envelopes and one received three: the special education teacher that I was complaining about yesterday. Apparently, her contract will not be renewed. She is the only person that isn’t ecstatic about that. I find it ironic that the day after she talked herself up so much, she found out that she got the ax. At the conclusion of the meeting, she left the room quickly and obviously upset. I only wish I could have seen the tears stream down her face.
The week ended a lot better than it began. I am down to four weeks of school remaining and really looking forward to next week, especially next weekend. When my buddy comes, Slowhand will be pleased to know that I’ll have somebody to spend my paycheck on…nah.
Every day, my opinion of this job and these kids fluctuates so much. Some days, I can’t stop smiling from ear to ear, and others, I look like I’ve been repeatedly run over by a truck. Today, I was free from too many bruises, and when I look at the number next to my name on that glorious sheet of paper, I am reminded that I only need to shake off the aches and pains for another four weeks.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Fat and Happy
After work today, my uncle, the sergeant across the hall, and I drove about an hour to go to an all-you-can-eat seafood buffet. Let's say that I have had some questions regarding my faith in the past, but after tonight, I know there is a God. My prayers were finally answered.
Oysters, catfish, gator, crab, shrimp, scallops, gumbo. I know there is more, but if I write anymore, the thought of food will make me even sicker.
After three heaping plates, I felt like I was going to throw up. I haven't eaten that much in a long, long time. I"ve always dreamed about a seafood buffet. Thank God for Southern food.
Didn't get home until about 9:30, and I'm spent.
So much for losing weight when I'm down here...
Oysters, catfish, gator, crab, shrimp, scallops, gumbo. I know there is more, but if I write anymore, the thought of food will make me even sicker.
After three heaping plates, I felt like I was going to throw up. I haven't eaten that much in a long, long time. I"ve always dreamed about a seafood buffet. Thank God for Southern food.
Didn't get home until about 9:30, and I'm spent.
So much for losing weight when I'm down here...
Dumb it down
Dumb it down
After three rough days, I wasn’t looking forward to work today. In the morning briefing, I learned the state department was going to do a scholastic audit, which means that they would be coming into every class and assessing the performance of each teacher. I can’t imagine how poor my evaluation would have been had they shown up in my third period class yesterday. I had no clue when they would be coming or how long they would be staying here for.
My first period was a bit smaller again. Maybe only fifteen students. I was able to reduce that number by two throughout the period. One of the loudmouth girls walked in late and immediately began speaking loudly to Miss Cheaterly. “What you lookin’ at me like dat for?” she chimed. I didn’t follow a lot, but I know that she called Cheaterly a bitch. I think they were playing, but I never can tell. I warned them both and they continued talking, so I gave them checks. Cheaterly reluctantly accepted hers, but the other girl wouldn’t. “I ain’t writing this. You better get out my face!” she said as she threw it to the ground. I picked it up and calmly told her to write it. When she didn’t, I kicked her out.
Normally, I wouldn’t write up a referral so quickly, but this girl has never written a check when I have asked her. We will call her Hand Cramps. Hand Cramps was out in the hallway and I was writing my referral. Without permission, she walked back into the room to complain. “How you gonna make me write a check? I didn’t do nothin’! Shoot!” she whined. I told her to leave again, and surprisingly, she did. A minute later, the security lady brought her back in. I finished writing the referral and told security that I couldn’t deal with her any more. I think she is going to have a decent-length suspension.
The only other girl who is as defiant as Hand Cramps made her presence known today: Rosie. That fat little load was glaring at me in the hallway before the day even began. She did her bell ringer, but then decided to call it a day. Head down. Yesterday, I stole an idea from the science teacher. When children refuse to do their work, she hands them an accountability form to sign. By doing this, she is able to cover her own hide if parents complain about their child’s grades and test scores. My form read as follows:
Accountability Form
I understand that I am responsible for my own actions and I can choose whether I learn something every day. I understand that in order to pass this class and return to my school, I must make the effort to learn the material presented.
I understand that when I do NOT participate in math class, I am hurting my chances to pass this class and graduate the program. It is less likely that I will be able to return to my old school.
I understand that my teacher is doing everything that he can to teach me as much as possible and prepare me to return to my old school. He is trying to help me succeed.
Today, _______________, I chose NOT to do any work and NOT to pay attention in class. I fully understand the consequences of my actions and will hold myself accountable for my failures.
Student Signature
Teacher Signature
I didn’t know how it would go over. Rosie had her head down for a solid ten minutes before I handed her the form. I told her that she had the choice of either doing her work or filling out the form. She told me her head hurt. I advised her to fill out the form then.
Two minutes later, she had yet to move, so I gave her a check. She threw both of them to the floor. I picked them up and without saying a word, placed them back on her desk. She continued to complain about her headache. At that point, I got her out of there. She is far from my favorite student and her insubordination has run its’ course.
I was out in the hallway with Rosie and the security lady. It is interesting how these students have really no understanding of how the hierarchy of a school works. I have more authority than the security lady does and make more money, but she is older and has been there longer, so the students are more respectful to her. They often complain about me to her. In front of the security woman, she handed me back the check and the accountability form, telling me there was no way she was going to write it. The security lady’s eyes grew big as she said, “That’s a referral.” So that’s what I did.
My first period went a bit better today. The Big White Kid wasn’t there, but I had others that appeared interested in doing their work. Teletubby even paid me a compliment, saying that he liked my Einstein tie. I thought that he said, “I like your top.” I wore a peach shirt today, so it certainly would have been fitting.
Second period began with the same group from yesterday. They seemed in high spirits and I made a mention to the Mouth about how I helped her out the day before. “I know,” she said, “I’m a do my work today.” And she actually did.
Terry Schiavo seemed like he had lost consciousness early in class. My bell ringer was way too hard today, and it took me a long time to get through. I had a problem about Usain Bolt running the 200 meter dash at the Olympics. I asked how long he could run a mile if he could maintain that speed. I wanted to be able to have my kids visualize how far he ran each second and if he could (which we all agreed was physically impossible) maintain that speed for an entire mile, compute how long it would take. I basically walked them through the first half of the problem before having them solve for time individually.
Needless to say, it took me a long time to get through the bell ringer. At 9:30 (probably 20-25 minutes after 2nd period started), we were still working on it. I was focused on the girls in the back of the room, because they appeared to be asking most of the questions. I panned the room and noticed Schiavo had his eyes half awake. He genuinely looked like he was sleeping with his eyes open. I called him by his name twice before a mumbled “Huh?” arose from his mouth. I chuckled and said, “Did you do your bell ringer?” He looked like he finally woke up as he said, “I need a pencil.” I smiled and said, “It took you 25 minutes to realize that you don’t have a pencil?” “Fittingly, he simply replied, “Sir?”
The girls in that class do like to talk, and they were mentioning how mean most of the teachers were becoming. I told them that I didn’t need to “get mean”, because I already was. Linda Blair said, “No, you ain’t. You was when you started, but you got used to us.” I wish she would see it the other way around (she got used to me), but I’ll take what I can get.
About thirty seconds later, a woman from the state department came into the class. I must say that I was happy she came when she did. Not a perfect class by any means, but probably the most manageable one that I have. I attempted explaining the bell ringer once again. Unfortunately, as with all women, I got nervous and awkward with her. It didn’t last long and my class all did their work. She was in there for probably twenty minutes, and even though none of my kids had much of a clue what I was talking about, they faked it to the best of their limited abilities. She left, and the kids slumped their shoulders. Two Test spoke:
“Mr. C-------, now you gotta give us some candy. We was good.”
I agreed that they “was good”, and they needed to be like that all the time. “Man, you owe us so much candy,” Mouth said. They worked for a few more minutes and then I went into my cabinet and brought out some small Snickers bars. I gave each of the students one. Linda Blair responded with, “Only one? That’s not fair. You owe us two.” I simply said, “I don’t owe you anything.” A couple of months ago, that would have pissed me off, but now, I know what to expect. I had a good class, and they were compliant. Linda Blair had said earlier, “You know you gotta bribe us with something if you want us to do our work the whole time.” Sadly, she is right.
Third period instilled a bit of fear into me heading into the day. They weren’t as bad as I thought they would be. Besides Whisper (who also liked my Einstein tie and offered to give me five bucks if I got him one) getting moved to the front and calling me a liar for not giving him any candy (“Boy, I swear to God” – yesterday’s entry was a typo. He says “I swear to God”, not “Oh my God”), the class went alright. Big Sexy had her head down for much of the class, so I tried to same accountability form that I gave to Rosie. It was met with the same result. She refused to sign and was hesitant towards writing any checks. After she told another student to “fuck off”, I had enough of her and showed her the door. She doesn’t seem to make it in class very long. Perhaps that is why she needs her name tattooed across her chest – to leave her mark.
I ended up teaching to two students in that class: the kid that calls me “man” all the time (Nickname: Man Man) and the kid who constantly complains about my teaching (Nickname: Dogface). These kids want nothing more than to feel smart and fear nothing more than looking stupid. It clicked with those two, so they were happy to answer every question. I gave Dogface some candy as a reward and I ripped up a check that Man Man had gotten earlier in the period. An outsider looking in would consider this class a disaster. For me, it was a resounding success. I reached two more students than I did yesterday.
Fourth period went well today. No Suit Man, which was a disappointment, but I was able to get most of the kids to do their work. Thank God, because another man from the state walked in to observe.
The one student I couldn’t reach in that class was the Silver Tongue. She had her head down the entire period. She was reluctant to sign the form, but she did, although she crossed off half of it. I am not sure why she didn’t do her work. She usually does.
Few highlights in that class, but a new boy did call Iron Mike “sir”, which was both funny and fighting. She said something about “beating his ass”, which I wouldn’t doubt that she could do.
The other highlight in that class was one of my newest students. I’ll call him Shawshank, because I can’t imagine what he could have done to get expelled from school. He has done all of his work both days. He even came to my desk to ask a question about his work, and he always calls me “sir”. Maybe he is a fraud, but he genuinely seems like a really nice kid. I have watched him around school and he never appears to do anything outside the lines.
I do believe that a lot of the students deserve to be here. They can’t function in a normal school and drag the kids down there. However, I believe that we are doing a major disservice to many of our students by putting them in this environment. Truth be told, I don’t know how many we can save. I am often afraid that we are losing more here than saving, surrounding decent kids with trouble and bad influence. Some of the kids here were expelled for very inconsequential reasons (ex. Dress code!!!). This school isn’t going to help them. I think a lot of the kids were expelled for being dumb. The other schools don’t want to try to teach them.
Anyways, fifth period was small again today – Skinny Kid in Camo, Onepac, TB, and Smiley. Lining up outside, Onepac told one of the sergeants that I was a liar. That definitely did not put him on my good side. Unfortunately for him, he was not able to cross over in the fifty minutes he was in class either.
Two minutes after class started, Onepac asked to use the bathroom. I said no. When he asked why, I told him, “Because you called me a liar. Why would I do something nice for you?” He never understood that. Instead, he told me, “The truth hurts, don’t it?” I am afraid that someday, he will know how much it does.
I don’t know what the counselor said to Smiley yesterday, but it worked. He was working on every question. He went to the board. He even tried teaching his two fellow students how he solved the problems. I was amazed at the difference that a day made with him. Skinny Kid and Onepac seemed disinterested and TB was indifferent, but as always, I tried to play to my crowd and focused my attention on Smiley.
TB and Skinny Kid were going back and forth (“Nigga” this and “nigga” that) so I gave them both a warning. It was interesting, because although TB is allegedly “mixed”, he looks more white than anything else. After I told them both that it was a warning and to stop, Skinny Kid in Camo went off on me.
“Man,brahwha?Ididn’tdonothin’man.Comininheregivenmeawarninmanboyi’lltellya”
I couldn’t understand him, but I knew that if I could, I wouldn’t have liked it. I gave him a check.
Class was winding down and Smiley was still working away. I reached into my cabinet and grabbed two small Snickers bars and placed them both in his hand. Skinny Kid was livid. He asked where his candy was at, and I just said, “I dunno. I need to talk to you after class.”
After class, I pulled him aside. I asked him to place himself in the situation I was about to describe…
You’re driving a car. You get pulled over. Cop tells you that you were going 15 miles per hour over the speed limit. You didn’t think that you did, but you don’t know. He could give you a ticket, but he says he is going to let you off with a warning. How do you feel?
He told me that he would feel happy. I explained how my warning was exactly the same thing. Skinny Kid nodded his head. “Yeah, I got ya…Now can I have some candy?”
When I said no, he got angry again. I heard “manbrahwhynotmanthatain’tfaryoualiar” as he exited the room.
In homeroom, I felt like I got more out of the forgiveness curriculum than I ever had before. Probably because I walked around with a handful of candy, but kids were opening up a bit and answering the questions. Psycho T, who had amazingly called me by my oldest, most common nickname (rhymes with “happy” for those that know me) earlier in the day, seemed to be the one most willing to share.
We talked about consequences and how one’s actions affect those around them. She gave the example of how her little cousin acts just like her, so she tries even harder to act right around her. I made a comment about how others will look up to us even if we don’t want them to and how we have people that greatly influence us. One girl (Dinosaur) asked who I looked up to and who shaped my life. I thought that was interesting and a good question, so I gave an honest, vague answer.
Psycho T also told me how her grandmother smoked and the little kids would walk around the yard, picking up cigarette butts and putting them in their mouths. Somehow, that changed the topic to smoking, which changed the topic to smoking crack, which changed the topic to how one would sample cocaine to see if it was any good.
Slim: You just put a little bit on your tongue.
Psycho T: No, you don’t. You snort it, you idiot.
Slim: Why would you snort it? You just need to taste it.
Psycho T: Because you want to get high.
I was able to get them off of that topic just before the horn sounded and the day ended. Unfortunately, my most grueling hour was still ahead of me.
The two people from the state department that were in my room had a meeting with all the teachers. The asked a bunch of questions about how we did things. I am relatively sure they knew the answer to just about every single one, but I guess they needed to write something down.
I get along with most of my fellow teachers fairly well, but today, I was ready to shoot a few of them. Instead of answering what the school did as a whole, several of the teachers decided to go through each and every thing that they did with their students. Every single reason why they are great teachers.
The special education teachers are the worst of all. A fellow teacher told me that she wouldn’t mind it if we “locked them all in a room together.” I can’t say that I disagree. You would honestly think that teaching special education was the most demanding job in the world. You would think that…until you walked into their rooms and saw two kids. Not twenty.
Anyways, the meeting which should have lasted 20 minutes took an hour. I never said a word.
Today was easily the best day of the week. The one thing that I still struggle with is getting down to the level of my students. I printed off a worksheet for my kids today. Only two classes got to it, and they really didn’t seem to understand much. I made up this worksheet because the one I printed off yesterday was too difficult. Tomorrow, I will print off an even easier worksheet for my kids to do. I’m still working on slowing down and simplifying everything that I do. Math has always come easy for me. I still have trouble understanding how it can be that difficult for somebody. And therein lies the challenge of teaching.
]Mouth told me today an observation that she made. “Mr. C-------, I figured it out. You was all stressed and hurrying because you didn’t have much time before LEAP. Now you aren’t in a hurry and this stuff’s easy.” Bingo.
The absolute highlight of my day came while I was in my room after class. I got a text from a friend telling me he is going to come down in a week. I already booked his flight. I know he reads this: Be ready for chaos.
Speaking of slowing down and understanding stupidity, I sent him an inebriated text message a few weeks ago, telling him that if he came down, I’d buy all of his drinks for him.
And I thought people who couldn’t do math were dumb…
After three rough days, I wasn’t looking forward to work today. In the morning briefing, I learned the state department was going to do a scholastic audit, which means that they would be coming into every class and assessing the performance of each teacher. I can’t imagine how poor my evaluation would have been had they shown up in my third period class yesterday. I had no clue when they would be coming or how long they would be staying here for.
My first period was a bit smaller again. Maybe only fifteen students. I was able to reduce that number by two throughout the period. One of the loudmouth girls walked in late and immediately began speaking loudly to Miss Cheaterly. “What you lookin’ at me like dat for?” she chimed. I didn’t follow a lot, but I know that she called Cheaterly a bitch. I think they were playing, but I never can tell. I warned them both and they continued talking, so I gave them checks. Cheaterly reluctantly accepted hers, but the other girl wouldn’t. “I ain’t writing this. You better get out my face!” she said as she threw it to the ground. I picked it up and calmly told her to write it. When she didn’t, I kicked her out.
Normally, I wouldn’t write up a referral so quickly, but this girl has never written a check when I have asked her. We will call her Hand Cramps. Hand Cramps was out in the hallway and I was writing my referral. Without permission, she walked back into the room to complain. “How you gonna make me write a check? I didn’t do nothin’! Shoot!” she whined. I told her to leave again, and surprisingly, she did. A minute later, the security lady brought her back in. I finished writing the referral and told security that I couldn’t deal with her any more. I think she is going to have a decent-length suspension.
The only other girl who is as defiant as Hand Cramps made her presence known today: Rosie. That fat little load was glaring at me in the hallway before the day even began. She did her bell ringer, but then decided to call it a day. Head down. Yesterday, I stole an idea from the science teacher. When children refuse to do their work, she hands them an accountability form to sign. By doing this, she is able to cover her own hide if parents complain about their child’s grades and test scores. My form read as follows:
Accountability Form
I understand that I am responsible for my own actions and I can choose whether I learn something every day. I understand that in order to pass this class and return to my school, I must make the effort to learn the material presented.
I understand that when I do NOT participate in math class, I am hurting my chances to pass this class and graduate the program. It is less likely that I will be able to return to my old school.
I understand that my teacher is doing everything that he can to teach me as much as possible and prepare me to return to my old school. He is trying to help me succeed.
Today, _______________, I chose NOT to do any work and NOT to pay attention in class. I fully understand the consequences of my actions and will hold myself accountable for my failures.
Student Signature
Teacher Signature
I didn’t know how it would go over. Rosie had her head down for a solid ten minutes before I handed her the form. I told her that she had the choice of either doing her work or filling out the form. She told me her head hurt. I advised her to fill out the form then.
Two minutes later, she had yet to move, so I gave her a check. She threw both of them to the floor. I picked them up and without saying a word, placed them back on her desk. She continued to complain about her headache. At that point, I got her out of there. She is far from my favorite student and her insubordination has run its’ course.
I was out in the hallway with Rosie and the security lady. It is interesting how these students have really no understanding of how the hierarchy of a school works. I have more authority than the security lady does and make more money, but she is older and has been there longer, so the students are more respectful to her. They often complain about me to her. In front of the security woman, she handed me back the check and the accountability form, telling me there was no way she was going to write it. The security lady’s eyes grew big as she said, “That’s a referral.” So that’s what I did.
My first period went a bit better today. The Big White Kid wasn’t there, but I had others that appeared interested in doing their work. Teletubby even paid me a compliment, saying that he liked my Einstein tie. I thought that he said, “I like your top.” I wore a peach shirt today, so it certainly would have been fitting.
Second period began with the same group from yesterday. They seemed in high spirits and I made a mention to the Mouth about how I helped her out the day before. “I know,” she said, “I’m a do my work today.” And she actually did.
Terry Schiavo seemed like he had lost consciousness early in class. My bell ringer was way too hard today, and it took me a long time to get through. I had a problem about Usain Bolt running the 200 meter dash at the Olympics. I asked how long he could run a mile if he could maintain that speed. I wanted to be able to have my kids visualize how far he ran each second and if he could (which we all agreed was physically impossible) maintain that speed for an entire mile, compute how long it would take. I basically walked them through the first half of the problem before having them solve for time individually.
Needless to say, it took me a long time to get through the bell ringer. At 9:30 (probably 20-25 minutes after 2nd period started), we were still working on it. I was focused on the girls in the back of the room, because they appeared to be asking most of the questions. I panned the room and noticed Schiavo had his eyes half awake. He genuinely looked like he was sleeping with his eyes open. I called him by his name twice before a mumbled “Huh?” arose from his mouth. I chuckled and said, “Did you do your bell ringer?” He looked like he finally woke up as he said, “I need a pencil.” I smiled and said, “It took you 25 minutes to realize that you don’t have a pencil?” “Fittingly, he simply replied, “Sir?”
The girls in that class do like to talk, and they were mentioning how mean most of the teachers were becoming. I told them that I didn’t need to “get mean”, because I already was. Linda Blair said, “No, you ain’t. You was when you started, but you got used to us.” I wish she would see it the other way around (she got used to me), but I’ll take what I can get.
About thirty seconds later, a woman from the state department came into the class. I must say that I was happy she came when she did. Not a perfect class by any means, but probably the most manageable one that I have. I attempted explaining the bell ringer once again. Unfortunately, as with all women, I got nervous and awkward with her. It didn’t last long and my class all did their work. She was in there for probably twenty minutes, and even though none of my kids had much of a clue what I was talking about, they faked it to the best of their limited abilities. She left, and the kids slumped their shoulders. Two Test spoke:
“Mr. C-------, now you gotta give us some candy. We was good.”
I agreed that they “was good”, and they needed to be like that all the time. “Man, you owe us so much candy,” Mouth said. They worked for a few more minutes and then I went into my cabinet and brought out some small Snickers bars. I gave each of the students one. Linda Blair responded with, “Only one? That’s not fair. You owe us two.” I simply said, “I don’t owe you anything.” A couple of months ago, that would have pissed me off, but now, I know what to expect. I had a good class, and they were compliant. Linda Blair had said earlier, “You know you gotta bribe us with something if you want us to do our work the whole time.” Sadly, she is right.
Third period instilled a bit of fear into me heading into the day. They weren’t as bad as I thought they would be. Besides Whisper (who also liked my Einstein tie and offered to give me five bucks if I got him one) getting moved to the front and calling me a liar for not giving him any candy (“Boy, I swear to God” – yesterday’s entry was a typo. He says “I swear to God”, not “Oh my God”), the class went alright. Big Sexy had her head down for much of the class, so I tried to same accountability form that I gave to Rosie. It was met with the same result. She refused to sign and was hesitant towards writing any checks. After she told another student to “fuck off”, I had enough of her and showed her the door. She doesn’t seem to make it in class very long. Perhaps that is why she needs her name tattooed across her chest – to leave her mark.
I ended up teaching to two students in that class: the kid that calls me “man” all the time (Nickname: Man Man) and the kid who constantly complains about my teaching (Nickname: Dogface). These kids want nothing more than to feel smart and fear nothing more than looking stupid. It clicked with those two, so they were happy to answer every question. I gave Dogface some candy as a reward and I ripped up a check that Man Man had gotten earlier in the period. An outsider looking in would consider this class a disaster. For me, it was a resounding success. I reached two more students than I did yesterday.
Fourth period went well today. No Suit Man, which was a disappointment, but I was able to get most of the kids to do their work. Thank God, because another man from the state walked in to observe.
The one student I couldn’t reach in that class was the Silver Tongue. She had her head down the entire period. She was reluctant to sign the form, but she did, although she crossed off half of it. I am not sure why she didn’t do her work. She usually does.
Few highlights in that class, but a new boy did call Iron Mike “sir”, which was both funny and fighting. She said something about “beating his ass”, which I wouldn’t doubt that she could do.
The other highlight in that class was one of my newest students. I’ll call him Shawshank, because I can’t imagine what he could have done to get expelled from school. He has done all of his work both days. He even came to my desk to ask a question about his work, and he always calls me “sir”. Maybe he is a fraud, but he genuinely seems like a really nice kid. I have watched him around school and he never appears to do anything outside the lines.
I do believe that a lot of the students deserve to be here. They can’t function in a normal school and drag the kids down there. However, I believe that we are doing a major disservice to many of our students by putting them in this environment. Truth be told, I don’t know how many we can save. I am often afraid that we are losing more here than saving, surrounding decent kids with trouble and bad influence. Some of the kids here were expelled for very inconsequential reasons (ex. Dress code!!!). This school isn’t going to help them. I think a lot of the kids were expelled for being dumb. The other schools don’t want to try to teach them.
Anyways, fifth period was small again today – Skinny Kid in Camo, Onepac, TB, and Smiley. Lining up outside, Onepac told one of the sergeants that I was a liar. That definitely did not put him on my good side. Unfortunately for him, he was not able to cross over in the fifty minutes he was in class either.
Two minutes after class started, Onepac asked to use the bathroom. I said no. When he asked why, I told him, “Because you called me a liar. Why would I do something nice for you?” He never understood that. Instead, he told me, “The truth hurts, don’t it?” I am afraid that someday, he will know how much it does.
I don’t know what the counselor said to Smiley yesterday, but it worked. He was working on every question. He went to the board. He even tried teaching his two fellow students how he solved the problems. I was amazed at the difference that a day made with him. Skinny Kid and Onepac seemed disinterested and TB was indifferent, but as always, I tried to play to my crowd and focused my attention on Smiley.
TB and Skinny Kid were going back and forth (“Nigga” this and “nigga” that) so I gave them both a warning. It was interesting, because although TB is allegedly “mixed”, he looks more white than anything else. After I told them both that it was a warning and to stop, Skinny Kid in Camo went off on me.
“Man,brahwha?Ididn’tdonothin’man.Comininheregivenmeawarninmanboyi’lltellya”
I couldn’t understand him, but I knew that if I could, I wouldn’t have liked it. I gave him a check.
Class was winding down and Smiley was still working away. I reached into my cabinet and grabbed two small Snickers bars and placed them both in his hand. Skinny Kid was livid. He asked where his candy was at, and I just said, “I dunno. I need to talk to you after class.”
After class, I pulled him aside. I asked him to place himself in the situation I was about to describe…
You’re driving a car. You get pulled over. Cop tells you that you were going 15 miles per hour over the speed limit. You didn’t think that you did, but you don’t know. He could give you a ticket, but he says he is going to let you off with a warning. How do you feel?
He told me that he would feel happy. I explained how my warning was exactly the same thing. Skinny Kid nodded his head. “Yeah, I got ya…Now can I have some candy?”
When I said no, he got angry again. I heard “manbrahwhynotmanthatain’tfaryoualiar” as he exited the room.
In homeroom, I felt like I got more out of the forgiveness curriculum than I ever had before. Probably because I walked around with a handful of candy, but kids were opening up a bit and answering the questions. Psycho T, who had amazingly called me by my oldest, most common nickname (rhymes with “happy” for those that know me) earlier in the day, seemed to be the one most willing to share.
We talked about consequences and how one’s actions affect those around them. She gave the example of how her little cousin acts just like her, so she tries even harder to act right around her. I made a comment about how others will look up to us even if we don’t want them to and how we have people that greatly influence us. One girl (Dinosaur) asked who I looked up to and who shaped my life. I thought that was interesting and a good question, so I gave an honest, vague answer.
Psycho T also told me how her grandmother smoked and the little kids would walk around the yard, picking up cigarette butts and putting them in their mouths. Somehow, that changed the topic to smoking, which changed the topic to smoking crack, which changed the topic to how one would sample cocaine to see if it was any good.
Slim: You just put a little bit on your tongue.
Psycho T: No, you don’t. You snort it, you idiot.
Slim: Why would you snort it? You just need to taste it.
Psycho T: Because you want to get high.
I was able to get them off of that topic just before the horn sounded and the day ended. Unfortunately, my most grueling hour was still ahead of me.
The two people from the state department that were in my room had a meeting with all the teachers. The asked a bunch of questions about how we did things. I am relatively sure they knew the answer to just about every single one, but I guess they needed to write something down.
I get along with most of my fellow teachers fairly well, but today, I was ready to shoot a few of them. Instead of answering what the school did as a whole, several of the teachers decided to go through each and every thing that they did with their students. Every single reason why they are great teachers.
The special education teachers are the worst of all. A fellow teacher told me that she wouldn’t mind it if we “locked them all in a room together.” I can’t say that I disagree. You would honestly think that teaching special education was the most demanding job in the world. You would think that…until you walked into their rooms and saw two kids. Not twenty.
Anyways, the meeting which should have lasted 20 minutes took an hour. I never said a word.
Today was easily the best day of the week. The one thing that I still struggle with is getting down to the level of my students. I printed off a worksheet for my kids today. Only two classes got to it, and they really didn’t seem to understand much. I made up this worksheet because the one I printed off yesterday was too difficult. Tomorrow, I will print off an even easier worksheet for my kids to do. I’m still working on slowing down and simplifying everything that I do. Math has always come easy for me. I still have trouble understanding how it can be that difficult for somebody. And therein lies the challenge of teaching.
]Mouth told me today an observation that she made. “Mr. C-------, I figured it out. You was all stressed and hurrying because you didn’t have much time before LEAP. Now you aren’t in a hurry and this stuff’s easy.” Bingo.
The absolute highlight of my day came while I was in my room after class. I got a text from a friend telling me he is going to come down in a week. I already booked his flight. I know he reads this: Be ready for chaos.
Speaking of slowing down and understanding stupidity, I sent him an inebriated text message a few weeks ago, telling him that if he came down, I’d buy all of his drinks for him.
And I thought people who couldn’t do math were dumb…
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Oh...My...God!
Today began with a search for drugs and ended with a search for meaning.
This morning was a bit of a mess. I decided to do a few extra powerpoint slides as well as create a worksheet to have my kids complete in class today. After our morning meeting, I realized that I couldn’t find my attendance sheet (I later learned that I had left it in my uncle’s office). Anyways, I was busy trying to find it. At about 8:15, a couple of female students lined up at my door. They started going into the classroom. Knowing that I needed to get a new attendance sheet, I asked very nicely if they would stand out in the hallway while I went to the office to get something. For three of the four, it was no big deal. One girl got extremely angry, looking me right in the eye as she said, “This is bullshit!” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a check from the giant roll and held out my hand for her. “I ain’t writin’ your check. Get outta my face!” I immediately told her to go to FLC, and she said, “I didn’t wanna be in your class anyway!”
I went quickly to the office to get a second attendance sheet. As soon as I returned, I let the students who were lined up enter the room. More students started filtering in. I later learned that a bag of a white substance (cocaine?) was found on the floor in the cafeteria. Unfortunately, they are unsure who it belonged to. I began filling out my attendance sheet as my students “worked”.
A few seconds later, I noticed a blue smudge on the paper. I looked at my hand. Pen exploded. I had to go to the bathroom to wash up. Great start to the day.
Walking to the bathroom, I noticed two students talking relatively loudly. I head, “Oh my God! This is bullshit!” It sounded like a familiar face. Sure enough, Whisper was just around the corner.
Apparently, he had $160 that was confiscated during the search. I learned today that $5 is the amount they are allowed to have on campus. After a couple of “Oh my God”s, he dropped the real kicker: “They took my condoms too. They ain’t nothin’ but protection. That’s bullshit!” I walked out with an amused grin on my face.
I got a break when Sergeant Grinch told me not to allow The Rapist or Chocolate Crotch Crammer in my class. They spent that time in FLC. He made it sound like he needed to process their suspensions. I hope so. I wouldn’t mind a break from those two.
First period was much the same as yesterday. I taught to a couple of students. Teletubby seemed sad, so he didn’t do much of anything. I gave Rosie a check for being a smartass, and the Big White Kid answered every question that I asked. About half of the class had their heads down at some point in class.
Mildly frustrated but mainly indifferent, I walked out the door to greet my second period. The sergeant across the hall was yelling at Candy Bar Man, his buddy, and Terry Schiavo. They had gotten in trouble for talking and were ordered to go outside and run. Candy Bar Man told the sergeant that he didn’t do anything (the girls in my class later told me that Terry Schiavo had caused the problem) and he wasn’t going to run. I gave him a glare and entered my room. He doesn’t realize that he is running out of chances.
I only had four students in my class: Linda Blair, a newer boy, a newer girl, and a girl that is one of the loudest people that I have ever met (We’ll call her “The Mouth”). I am accustomed to hearing them chat and gossip throughout much of their “bell ringer time”. Today, instead of handing out checks and yelling, I decided to eavesdrop.
The big thing that I learned was that Linda Blair’s boyfriend is going to jail. She didn’t seem too upset. It sounds like it could be a decent trade off for both of them: I would rather be locked up than with her.
A few minutes later, one of the newer girls asked me how late the teachers stay at school. I don’t know if I ever truly answer a student’s person questions honestly, and this was no exception. I told her that I lived in the school and never left. She asked me why I didn’t want to go home with my wife and kids. The Mouth told her that I didn’t have a family.
The new girl had an epiphany: “So that’s why you are like that? Always handed out checks and stressed out. You don’t got a wife.” I smiled and told her that a wife would make me more stressed. She immediately corrected me. “No. If you had a wife, you’d…well…honestly, you’d be getting some then.”
I attempted to change the topic, and was met with a bit more success than my other classes. Things took a small turn for the worst when ol’ Two Test (took the same test twice). She immediately started complaining about how she wasn’t going to do any work and began talking loudly to the new girl. I moved her to the desk in front of my my desk, and then she put her head down on my desk. I would have none of that and gave her a check. The Mouth chimed in about how I couldn’t do that. I gave her one, too. Just to be fair.
Third period was the disaster I had been waiting for since I started teaching here. Whisper was still complaining about the money. Worm with Braids and Whisper teamed up to moan and groan about how I am the only teacher that is still making them do work the entire time. “When are we going to get on the computers?” they whined. “Hopefully never,” I retorted with a smile. I was able to quickly turn it around on Worm with Braids, because he was the student who initially told me that I needed to be harder on the kids and not let them get away with so much. I simply told the class that Worm with Braids had asked me to be tougher, so that’s what I did. I attempted to start teaching.
It was as if I was not even there. I have said that dozens of times, but today reached a new low. Being home last week, I found it amazing how intrigued people were with my job. Often, I don’t think that it is that difficult. Today, I was reminded how challenging this can be. If somebody were to walk into NHS and into that third period class for the first time today, they would have been shocked. I was completely helpless. I understand why they couldn’t get a math teacher to last more than two days. It is that hard.
For forty minutes, I stood at the front of the room, repeating the same three or four sentences over and over again. I don’t know if anybody ever heard me. I wrote a large “3” on the board and put two boxes around it. One student out of the eleven that were in attendance saw it. I had pointed at it for a good five seconds and left it there for atleast ten.
I gave Whisper a check because I grew tired of his complaining. Worm with Braids was busy drawing “pen tattoos” on Whisper’s hands. I knew they weren’t supposed to write on themselves and I also knew that pens were not allowed. As soon as Whisper got his check, he let out atleast six “Oh my God”s and started with the very clichéd “You always pick on me.”
I thought that the way I handled yesterday with Whisper would be beneficial today. I brought up how I had warned him several times on Tuesday and told him that I didn’t want him to get in trouble. I even gave him candy at the end of class. It did leave him speechless for a solid two seconds, but it also had the other kids complaining that they didn’t get any candy.
I moved Whisper to the front of the room. Instead of sitting in the front, he grabbed his desk and pushed it to the corner, nearly against the door. A minute later, he was making more pen tattoos on his hand. I asked for his pen, and he grew angrier. “Oh my God! You can’t take my pen.” I opened the door and luckily the sergeant was outside. He concurred. No pens at school.
I heard throughout the period that the school year is over and none of the other classes are teaching anything. They complained about how I never let them use the computer and how the English teacher said they need to be on the computer in every class. I told them I would ask her. Whisper told me that I shouldn’t ask her, because she’s a “gangsta”. Not quite.
Whisper also told me that he will never need to use this math stuff in his entire life. I gave two examples of how he would. The first one was directly related to what we were supposed to do in class today. I gave him a scenario, saying that he was 100 miles away from his destination and the speed limit was 50 miles per hour. I asked how long it would take him to get there.
Response: “I know that. About three hours.”
After correcting him, I asked him if he knew how to manage money. He had no clue what that even meant. I told him that he would have a job (probably false) and also have a bunch of expenses such as rent, other bills, groceries, etc. and he would need to know how to budget. He told me that he didn’t need to know how to do that because his women did it for him. I smiled and said, “Women come and go.”
Response: “Not for me. Maybe for you, but I’ve got twelve of them. You just don’t know how to control them like I do.”
Good point.
I guess that's why I never needed to bring condoms to school.
Whisper then made a comment that if the entire class left the room, I would be fired. They started to motion towards the door, but then sat down. I am honestly a bit surprised that they didn’t all leave.
In hindsight, I should have given Whisper the boot today. Tomorrow is another day and I am sure he’ll give me plenty of opportunities. What a guy.
A few minutes of attempted teaching later, and I went off.
“You know what the funny thing is? You are all going to fail and I’m going to get paid anyway. Keep screwing up. I can’t help you. If you keep making these mistakes and screwing up, you’re going to end up in jail. If you don’t care, I don’t care.”
While I said this, ready to wring those little shitheads by their necks, they laughed hysterically. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I gave up.
I passed out a worksheet, which I told them would be collected at the end of the class for a grade. I sat down in my chair, and put my hands behind my head and my feet up on my desk. I was through teaching them for the day. Whisper was the only student who even attempted his worksheet. All three problems were wrong.
If tomorrow is similar, I will make those wastes of life feel absolutely ridiculous. I can’t take much more of that.
After lunch, I was standing in the hallway, eying up my fourth period when Prudence made an interesting observation.
“Mr. C-------, you don’t know how to teach math good.”
I could have erupted, but instead I asked her who her English teacher was. After she told me, I remarked, “Well, she must need some work, too, because you don’t know how to speak correctly.” I got a few chuckles and a slightly annoyed Prudence.
In the room, Prudence told me that she was going to talk to the police about what I just said. A minute later, she told Suit Man to “shut the fuck up”. I gave her a check and told her that the language was inappropriate. She learned something, because for the rest of the class, every time somebody irritated her, she said, “Mr. C-------, please to them to shut up.” So polite.
I began teaching, and Prudence was going at it with some other students, so I decided to be a jerk. “What was your grade in my class last term?” I asked, knowing full well what the answer was. She responded sharply, “Uh effff!” I told her that if she did her work and paid attention, her grade would be better. She told me the real reason was because I “didn’t know how to teach right.” I responded by saying that even if she didn’t get along with a teacher and disagreed with the way they taught, she was still responsible for the information. “No,” she said, “You don’t do it right.”
I sarcastically announced to the class that I was going to teach right today for the first time because I wanted them all to pass. A few minutes later and Prudence remarked that she “got it” and the stuff we were working on was “easy”. I think she might be missing a few cards from her deck.
Suit Man irritated me today and earned himself a check. He wouldn’t stop turning around and talking. I was most disappointed with who he was talking to: Tony Montana. What a pantload that kid is.
As always, I had a bright spot. One of the new kids quietly did his work and actually seemed to understand what I was doing. I gave him extra credit for solving a problem that nobody else got. So I guess for today, that was one small victory after about fifty defeats.
Fifth period was thankfully small again: Skinny Kid in Camo, Onepac, and Smiley. I don’t know if I will ever see Ho Man again. He was probably at home, sleeping and enjoying his $260.
The class was a bit slow to start out. Honestly, my motivation is lacking, and I know that I am giving them longer and longer to do their bell ringer because I really don’t feel like standing up there the entire time and talking to a wall. For three minutes, the kids sat there and didn’t get their folders. Finally, after several pleas, they made their way to my desk. Instead of grabbing for his folder, Smiley hopped up on my desk and sat down. I wasn’t happy, so I told him to get down. He took his time and said something that sounded an awful lot like “I will, girl.” He told me said “bro”, which still wasn’t exactly respectful. Finally, I gave him a check. He decided at that point that he was tired and it was nap time.
Often, I will let the students sleep, but he was already on my nerves, so I decided to wake him up. After a nice slumber, I told him to lift his head up. Still refusing to do work, I picked the perfect time to punish him. I had just gone over the definition of acceleration with my class, and I thought he might need a visual representation, so I got the idea to make him accelerate around the dirt track where the students are forced to run. Unfortunately, his counselor came at that moment. She called me down to ask about the girl from the first period who had cursed at me. I was able to kill two birds with one stone as I explained what happened with the girl as well as Smiley. She didn’t appear too happy. I returned to class a minute later.
Onepac is definitely candy-hungry, and he started asking about my candy. I sarcastically said that I had “everything he could imagine”. The kids did their work, and later, he asked about the candy. I told them that all I had was the mints from the day before. Onepac said, “I starting to think you a liar. I don’t like liars neither. I starting to think you a liar, dawg.” I shrugged my shoulder and kept teaching.
A minute later, Smiley returned to my room and asked for a piece of paper While I taught, he was busy writing something. I had no clue what it was. The horn sounded a few minutes later. Smiley walked up to me and gave me the paper. It read:
Dear Mr. C------ I am writing the letter because I am sorry for disrupting yoru class. And my counsler told me too. So I am sorry but you a nice teacher and I relize that I suppose to behave and Do my work and for now on I am gone to follow the rules.
Hemingway, eat your heart out.
Only twenty-five more minutes to go.
The Forgiveness Curriculum will NOT work with the high schoolers. I made an effort once again today to go over some questions. Teletubby complained that his head hurt, so I picked on him a bit. After asking him whether or not it was easy to be your best self, he paused and after much deliberation, he responded, “No, I guess it isn’t, ‘cause I like being evil.” Shortly after that, I decided to sit down. The Big White Kid was doing some math work and I helped him with that while the other kids talked loudly. Whatever. The only other thing I gained from homeroom was my class told me I say “okay” a lot. It is a bit ironic, because normally it isn’t.
After class, I met with the girl from first period and her mother. The girl tried to correct me several times. At any rate, she gave me a mumbled apology and I said I would allow her to come back to class tomorrow.
I was headed toward the office when The Mouth interrupted my path. “Hey, Mr. C------, we never talked about that check after class.” She told me that she was told that she can’t get in trouble anymore or she won’t be able to go back to her old school. I knew that she didn’t deserve to have it rescinded, but I decided to throw her a bone. I gave her the check and walked away to a tearing sound. I don’t expect her behavior to change. You scratch their back, they’ll stab you in yours.
Today left me wondering what the point of my effort is. Several kids have informed me that they are not doing any work. Unfortunately, I can’t make them. The state department is going to be in the next couple of days, which means I can’t really just sit in my desk and stop teaching, so it could be pretty grueling. I am afraid tomorrow could leave me in unison with Whisper, shouting, “Oh…My…God!”
This morning was a bit of a mess. I decided to do a few extra powerpoint slides as well as create a worksheet to have my kids complete in class today. After our morning meeting, I realized that I couldn’t find my attendance sheet (I later learned that I had left it in my uncle’s office). Anyways, I was busy trying to find it. At about 8:15, a couple of female students lined up at my door. They started going into the classroom. Knowing that I needed to get a new attendance sheet, I asked very nicely if they would stand out in the hallway while I went to the office to get something. For three of the four, it was no big deal. One girl got extremely angry, looking me right in the eye as she said, “This is bullshit!” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a check from the giant roll and held out my hand for her. “I ain’t writin’ your check. Get outta my face!” I immediately told her to go to FLC, and she said, “I didn’t wanna be in your class anyway!”
I went quickly to the office to get a second attendance sheet. As soon as I returned, I let the students who were lined up enter the room. More students started filtering in. I later learned that a bag of a white substance (cocaine?) was found on the floor in the cafeteria. Unfortunately, they are unsure who it belonged to. I began filling out my attendance sheet as my students “worked”.
A few seconds later, I noticed a blue smudge on the paper. I looked at my hand. Pen exploded. I had to go to the bathroom to wash up. Great start to the day.
Walking to the bathroom, I noticed two students talking relatively loudly. I head, “Oh my God! This is bullshit!” It sounded like a familiar face. Sure enough, Whisper was just around the corner.
Apparently, he had $160 that was confiscated during the search. I learned today that $5 is the amount they are allowed to have on campus. After a couple of “Oh my God”s, he dropped the real kicker: “They took my condoms too. They ain’t nothin’ but protection. That’s bullshit!” I walked out with an amused grin on my face.
I got a break when Sergeant Grinch told me not to allow The Rapist or Chocolate Crotch Crammer in my class. They spent that time in FLC. He made it sound like he needed to process their suspensions. I hope so. I wouldn’t mind a break from those two.
First period was much the same as yesterday. I taught to a couple of students. Teletubby seemed sad, so he didn’t do much of anything. I gave Rosie a check for being a smartass, and the Big White Kid answered every question that I asked. About half of the class had their heads down at some point in class.
Mildly frustrated but mainly indifferent, I walked out the door to greet my second period. The sergeant across the hall was yelling at Candy Bar Man, his buddy, and Terry Schiavo. They had gotten in trouble for talking and were ordered to go outside and run. Candy Bar Man told the sergeant that he didn’t do anything (the girls in my class later told me that Terry Schiavo had caused the problem) and he wasn’t going to run. I gave him a glare and entered my room. He doesn’t realize that he is running out of chances.
I only had four students in my class: Linda Blair, a newer boy, a newer girl, and a girl that is one of the loudest people that I have ever met (We’ll call her “The Mouth”). I am accustomed to hearing them chat and gossip throughout much of their “bell ringer time”. Today, instead of handing out checks and yelling, I decided to eavesdrop.
The big thing that I learned was that Linda Blair’s boyfriend is going to jail. She didn’t seem too upset. It sounds like it could be a decent trade off for both of them: I would rather be locked up than with her.
A few minutes later, one of the newer girls asked me how late the teachers stay at school. I don’t know if I ever truly answer a student’s person questions honestly, and this was no exception. I told her that I lived in the school and never left. She asked me why I didn’t want to go home with my wife and kids. The Mouth told her that I didn’t have a family.
The new girl had an epiphany: “So that’s why you are like that? Always handed out checks and stressed out. You don’t got a wife.” I smiled and told her that a wife would make me more stressed. She immediately corrected me. “No. If you had a wife, you’d…well…honestly, you’d be getting some then.”
I attempted to change the topic, and was met with a bit more success than my other classes. Things took a small turn for the worst when ol’ Two Test (took the same test twice). She immediately started complaining about how she wasn’t going to do any work and began talking loudly to the new girl. I moved her to the desk in front of my my desk, and then she put her head down on my desk. I would have none of that and gave her a check. The Mouth chimed in about how I couldn’t do that. I gave her one, too. Just to be fair.
Third period was the disaster I had been waiting for since I started teaching here. Whisper was still complaining about the money. Worm with Braids and Whisper teamed up to moan and groan about how I am the only teacher that is still making them do work the entire time. “When are we going to get on the computers?” they whined. “Hopefully never,” I retorted with a smile. I was able to quickly turn it around on Worm with Braids, because he was the student who initially told me that I needed to be harder on the kids and not let them get away with so much. I simply told the class that Worm with Braids had asked me to be tougher, so that’s what I did. I attempted to start teaching.
It was as if I was not even there. I have said that dozens of times, but today reached a new low. Being home last week, I found it amazing how intrigued people were with my job. Often, I don’t think that it is that difficult. Today, I was reminded how challenging this can be. If somebody were to walk into NHS and into that third period class for the first time today, they would have been shocked. I was completely helpless. I understand why they couldn’t get a math teacher to last more than two days. It is that hard.
For forty minutes, I stood at the front of the room, repeating the same three or four sentences over and over again. I don’t know if anybody ever heard me. I wrote a large “3” on the board and put two boxes around it. One student out of the eleven that were in attendance saw it. I had pointed at it for a good five seconds and left it there for atleast ten.
I gave Whisper a check because I grew tired of his complaining. Worm with Braids was busy drawing “pen tattoos” on Whisper’s hands. I knew they weren’t supposed to write on themselves and I also knew that pens were not allowed. As soon as Whisper got his check, he let out atleast six “Oh my God”s and started with the very clichéd “You always pick on me.”
I thought that the way I handled yesterday with Whisper would be beneficial today. I brought up how I had warned him several times on Tuesday and told him that I didn’t want him to get in trouble. I even gave him candy at the end of class. It did leave him speechless for a solid two seconds, but it also had the other kids complaining that they didn’t get any candy.
I moved Whisper to the front of the room. Instead of sitting in the front, he grabbed his desk and pushed it to the corner, nearly against the door. A minute later, he was making more pen tattoos on his hand. I asked for his pen, and he grew angrier. “Oh my God! You can’t take my pen.” I opened the door and luckily the sergeant was outside. He concurred. No pens at school.
I heard throughout the period that the school year is over and none of the other classes are teaching anything. They complained about how I never let them use the computer and how the English teacher said they need to be on the computer in every class. I told them I would ask her. Whisper told me that I shouldn’t ask her, because she’s a “gangsta”. Not quite.
Whisper also told me that he will never need to use this math stuff in his entire life. I gave two examples of how he would. The first one was directly related to what we were supposed to do in class today. I gave him a scenario, saying that he was 100 miles away from his destination and the speed limit was 50 miles per hour. I asked how long it would take him to get there.
Response: “I know that. About three hours.”
After correcting him, I asked him if he knew how to manage money. He had no clue what that even meant. I told him that he would have a job (probably false) and also have a bunch of expenses such as rent, other bills, groceries, etc. and he would need to know how to budget. He told me that he didn’t need to know how to do that because his women did it for him. I smiled and said, “Women come and go.”
Response: “Not for me. Maybe for you, but I’ve got twelve of them. You just don’t know how to control them like I do.”
Good point.
I guess that's why I never needed to bring condoms to school.
Whisper then made a comment that if the entire class left the room, I would be fired. They started to motion towards the door, but then sat down. I am honestly a bit surprised that they didn’t all leave.
In hindsight, I should have given Whisper the boot today. Tomorrow is another day and I am sure he’ll give me plenty of opportunities. What a guy.
A few minutes of attempted teaching later, and I went off.
“You know what the funny thing is? You are all going to fail and I’m going to get paid anyway. Keep screwing up. I can’t help you. If you keep making these mistakes and screwing up, you’re going to end up in jail. If you don’t care, I don’t care.”
While I said this, ready to wring those little shitheads by their necks, they laughed hysterically. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I gave up.
I passed out a worksheet, which I told them would be collected at the end of the class for a grade. I sat down in my chair, and put my hands behind my head and my feet up on my desk. I was through teaching them for the day. Whisper was the only student who even attempted his worksheet. All three problems were wrong.
If tomorrow is similar, I will make those wastes of life feel absolutely ridiculous. I can’t take much more of that.
After lunch, I was standing in the hallway, eying up my fourth period when Prudence made an interesting observation.
“Mr. C-------, you don’t know how to teach math good.”
I could have erupted, but instead I asked her who her English teacher was. After she told me, I remarked, “Well, she must need some work, too, because you don’t know how to speak correctly.” I got a few chuckles and a slightly annoyed Prudence.
In the room, Prudence told me that she was going to talk to the police about what I just said. A minute later, she told Suit Man to “shut the fuck up”. I gave her a check and told her that the language was inappropriate. She learned something, because for the rest of the class, every time somebody irritated her, she said, “Mr. C-------, please to them to shut up.” So polite.
I began teaching, and Prudence was going at it with some other students, so I decided to be a jerk. “What was your grade in my class last term?” I asked, knowing full well what the answer was. She responded sharply, “Uh effff!” I told her that if she did her work and paid attention, her grade would be better. She told me the real reason was because I “didn’t know how to teach right.” I responded by saying that even if she didn’t get along with a teacher and disagreed with the way they taught, she was still responsible for the information. “No,” she said, “You don’t do it right.”
I sarcastically announced to the class that I was going to teach right today for the first time because I wanted them all to pass. A few minutes later and Prudence remarked that she “got it” and the stuff we were working on was “easy”. I think she might be missing a few cards from her deck.
Suit Man irritated me today and earned himself a check. He wouldn’t stop turning around and talking. I was most disappointed with who he was talking to: Tony Montana. What a pantload that kid is.
As always, I had a bright spot. One of the new kids quietly did his work and actually seemed to understand what I was doing. I gave him extra credit for solving a problem that nobody else got. So I guess for today, that was one small victory after about fifty defeats.
Fifth period was thankfully small again: Skinny Kid in Camo, Onepac, and Smiley. I don’t know if I will ever see Ho Man again. He was probably at home, sleeping and enjoying his $260.
The class was a bit slow to start out. Honestly, my motivation is lacking, and I know that I am giving them longer and longer to do their bell ringer because I really don’t feel like standing up there the entire time and talking to a wall. For three minutes, the kids sat there and didn’t get their folders. Finally, after several pleas, they made their way to my desk. Instead of grabbing for his folder, Smiley hopped up on my desk and sat down. I wasn’t happy, so I told him to get down. He took his time and said something that sounded an awful lot like “I will, girl.” He told me said “bro”, which still wasn’t exactly respectful. Finally, I gave him a check. He decided at that point that he was tired and it was nap time.
Often, I will let the students sleep, but he was already on my nerves, so I decided to wake him up. After a nice slumber, I told him to lift his head up. Still refusing to do work, I picked the perfect time to punish him. I had just gone over the definition of acceleration with my class, and I thought he might need a visual representation, so I got the idea to make him accelerate around the dirt track where the students are forced to run. Unfortunately, his counselor came at that moment. She called me down to ask about the girl from the first period who had cursed at me. I was able to kill two birds with one stone as I explained what happened with the girl as well as Smiley. She didn’t appear too happy. I returned to class a minute later.
Onepac is definitely candy-hungry, and he started asking about my candy. I sarcastically said that I had “everything he could imagine”. The kids did their work, and later, he asked about the candy. I told them that all I had was the mints from the day before. Onepac said, “I starting to think you a liar. I don’t like liars neither. I starting to think you a liar, dawg.” I shrugged my shoulder and kept teaching.
A minute later, Smiley returned to my room and asked for a piece of paper While I taught, he was busy writing something. I had no clue what it was. The horn sounded a few minutes later. Smiley walked up to me and gave me the paper. It read:
Dear Mr. C------ I am writing the letter because I am sorry for disrupting yoru class. And my counsler told me too. So I am sorry but you a nice teacher and I relize that I suppose to behave and Do my work and for now on I am gone to follow the rules.
Hemingway, eat your heart out.
Only twenty-five more minutes to go.
The Forgiveness Curriculum will NOT work with the high schoolers. I made an effort once again today to go over some questions. Teletubby complained that his head hurt, so I picked on him a bit. After asking him whether or not it was easy to be your best self, he paused and after much deliberation, he responded, “No, I guess it isn’t, ‘cause I like being evil.” Shortly after that, I decided to sit down. The Big White Kid was doing some math work and I helped him with that while the other kids talked loudly. Whatever. The only other thing I gained from homeroom was my class told me I say “okay” a lot. It is a bit ironic, because normally it isn’t.
After class, I met with the girl from first period and her mother. The girl tried to correct me several times. At any rate, she gave me a mumbled apology and I said I would allow her to come back to class tomorrow.
I was headed toward the office when The Mouth interrupted my path. “Hey, Mr. C------, we never talked about that check after class.” She told me that she was told that she can’t get in trouble anymore or she won’t be able to go back to her old school. I knew that she didn’t deserve to have it rescinded, but I decided to throw her a bone. I gave her the check and walked away to a tearing sound. I don’t expect her behavior to change. You scratch their back, they’ll stab you in yours.
Today left me wondering what the point of my effort is. Several kids have informed me that they are not doing any work. Unfortunately, I can’t make them. The state department is going to be in the next couple of days, which means I can’t really just sit in my desk and stop teaching, so it could be pretty grueling. I am afraid tomorrow could leave me in unison with Whisper, shouting, “Oh…My…God!”
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